It's a Deal
by stagetrinity
Summary: Arnold and Helga make a deal: If she can help him get a date with the girl of his dreams by coaching him in romance, then he has to accompany her to formal dinner as her date. However, a lot can change in two months time. Will Helga be able to handle helping Arnold woo another woman? And if Arnold does get what he wants, will he still want what he gets? (rating for later chapters)
1. Deal

I decided to try to switch it up and write some first person work, and with a character other than Helga. It's been a different form of thinking this go around.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hey Arnold. Boo.

The sonnet used is by Joyce Hemsley

* * *

"Be still my…aaah," I gulped, the paper hard to read as I held it in my shaking hands. My sweaty palms were sticking to the paper, making it extremely uncomfortable. I gave a nervous chuckle, rubbing one of my palms on my jeans. The silence of the room wasn't really, well, silent. I could hear every cough, mutter, pitying giggle, as well as every breath that was being taken. Silence really was deafening.

I could hear the papers being shuffled in the back by Mr. Simmons. Why did he have to expand his degree on a whim last year? Why did he apply for this creative literature class? Why did I decide to sign up for this? Let's be honest here, I suck at using writing as a creative outlet. I don't do well expressing myself emotionally on paper. Words and I don't get along well when I'm telling my _feelings. _I can rouse a crowd with motivating pep talk, I can stir an unmotivated peer into action with a few kind words, and I can dissect and analyze someone else's work all day long. But ask how I feel on an emotional level about something is like asking me how does a fish know it's wet. I frankly have no words for that. I might as well be telling you about the emotions of a piece of whole grain toast. Bland and no one really cares about it.

So this unit was not going well for me at all. We were going over "Romeo and Juliet" (Mr. Simmons has a thing for that play), when Mr. Simmons has the bright idea to have us write a bit of prose, or whatever you want to call it, about our feelings to someone we love. And not just a few words, we had to make this into a modern balcony scene. And I was sitting at home trying to think of something to write, and all I could think of was how Lila's hair looks like carrots and how I was so not expecting to read this out loud in class and oh my God she's looking at me and I am so screwed.

Mr. Simmons gave a gentle cough, and I quickly muttered "Sorry" before giving a weak cough over the giggles that smattered around the room.

"Be still my heart-" I began again, my voice wavering. Thankfully, I was saved by the bell at that moment. I heaved a sigh of relief, quickly marching back to my seat, covering my face with the darned paper.

"That bad, huh?" Gerald questioned from behind me, giving me a sympathetic pat on the back.

"You have no idea," I grumbled weakly, stuffing my books down into my bag.

"Now remember, if you didn't get to read your paper aloud today, there's no reason to be upset. Turn your papers in at the desk, and you'll get your turn to show your special creative side after lunch, alright?" Mr. Simmons called over our chatting, making his way back to his desk.

Gerald gave me a pitying look as I groaned. I thought I might have lunch to rework my paper. Namely, to rework it without obvious references to Lila in it. Honestly, I figured I'd be over Lila by now. I mean, I blame the brief stint we sort of dated last semester. I had just got my car, after saving for what seemed like ages. Most people got there's at sixteen, but I'd had to wait an extra year. Money was hard to come by. But she'd soon broken things off with me. I was not as expressive emotionally as she felt I should be. I groaned. "I'll just stay and talk to him about it," I explained to Gerald, waving after him. He gave me an encouraging thumbs up as he slung his bag over his shoulder, heading off down the hallway.

I sighed as I made my way up to the desk, rubbing my arm nervously. "Um, Mr. Simmons?"

"Oh Arnold, yes? Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, shuffling through the papers on his desk.

"It's about my, um, paper," I explained, practically sanding my arm off with my hand. Mr. Simmons gave me a look, smiling.

"I'm especially glad to hear some of your work, Arnold. You do so well with your analysis papers and speeches. I'm looking forward to seeing this new creative side of you, seeing a bit of your individuality!"

"About that," I chuckled, closing my eyes as I sighed. "I…I wasn't aware these were going to be read aloud in class. I…well, I sort of wrote mine about someone in the class."

The look on his face was not something I expected. His eyes lit up and a large smile curled on his lips. "Well Arnold, this is exactly what the assignment was for! To express feeling over someone we have great feeling for!"

"You don't understand!" I protested, a knot forming in my stomach. "She'll know it's about her!" I hadn't known I was leaning on the desk until I felt my fingers trying to dig into the wood. I quickly pulled my hands back, shoving them in my pockets.

I sighed gratefully as he nodded in understanding. "Alright, I understand. I'll read over your work while you all are at lunch, and I'll grade yours then. I know how private such things can be high schoolers." He patted my arm soothingly. "Just remember that part of these assignments is to get you in touch with your inner self, and it's therapeutic."

I nodded. Honestly, it didn't feel therapeutic, it felt embarrassing. I just wanted to skim over my pathetic mooning over Lila and get on with my life. I groaned.

"Hey, Simms, about my sonnet. I assume we still have our agreement on- football head, what're you doing here?"

I felt a shiver up my spine as Helga's hissing voice met my ear. I inwardly cringed whenever she said my name in that tone of voice. It was habitual, and I think I'd finally started to grow used to it.

"We were talking about Arnold's assignment," Mr. Simmons offered up casually. Helga simply raised a brow, hands on her hips. She shot me a look before leaning on the desk, ignoring me completely.

"So am I golden, or what?" she inquired with ease. I got the feeling these two had this conversation a lot from the way Mr. Simmons looked at her.

"Well, Arnold came to me first thing time Helga," he said with a bit of an apologetic smile. I watched as the color drained from Helga's face, and I stumbled a few steps back as she turned to glare at me.

"But we have an agreement!" she seethed. "I always get to sit out when we turn in assignments dealing….dealing with emotions," she finished soundly, giving him a pointed look.

I watched as his eyes flickered from Helga to me, then back to Helga. I suddenly felt like an intruder.

"I think I'll just get to lunch," I explained, pointing down the hallway. Gerald was probably waiting on me and I was pretty hungry. Also, I figured if I stayed too much longer, Helga would turn her deadly glare and me and all the skin would melt clear off my face.

"I can't show favoritism," I heard him explaining to Helga as I quickly skirted around her and down the hall. I didn't hear her response clearly, only that it was loud and angry. Typical.

I plodded down the hall, frowning. I had never really made the connection that Helga rarely read her work aloud in class. If anything, she always went last and made a show of wasting time so the bell would always cut her time down to almost nothing. The more I thought about it, the more curious it made me. I wondered what her reason could be.

I shrugged, not bothering to dwell on it as I went quickly through the now empty lunch line. I paid for my food, sliding into my usual table, where Gerald was already polishing off his meal.

"Dude, what took you so long?" he asked, gnawing on a bone from the chicken wing remnants on his plate.

I shrugged, twisting the cap on my soda. "I explained the situation, you know. I didn't want to read it aloud because Lila would obviously-"

I paused my food preparation as Gerald released an exaggerated moan. "Arnold, seriously. Get over it. You guys broke up two months ago. Have some manhood and don't bring her into your school projects."

I frowned, shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes in my mouth. "It's not like I do this all the time!" I protested, though it came out more like "Ith noth wike a dothith all thethime."

Gerald raised his eyebrows, simply shaking his head.

I quickly washed down my food with a gulp of yahoo. "Well I don't!"

"Football head, read your crappy sonnet to the class, or so help me I will emasculate you with dull scissors."

I choked on my drink, splutter and coughing over my tray. Helga waited patiently for me to regain my composure before locking her hand over the collar of my shirt and dragging me close to her face. She had pretty eyes, if you stopped to think about it.

"Well? Are you going to read yours?" she demanded angrily. I could feel the tension in her fist.

I sighed prying her fingers from my shirt. "No, Helga. I'd rather not."

"Why?" she barked, grabbing a chair that a freshman was about to sit in, swinging it under her so she could sit right across from me. Our knees were touching she was so close. I flinched as the poor kid hit the floor, though she didn't seem to notice.

"Why won't you read yours?" I countered, turning back to my food.

"Because…because I just can't!" she protested hotly, knocking my fork from my hand. I took a deep breath before turning to her, meeting her eyes.

"Helga, I'm not reading mine, and that's final. Now that I think about it, you sit out reading yours a lot. So maybe you just need to deal with it this time," I explained as calmly as I could. I had nothing against Helga. In fact, since we started High School, we'd only had a few brief encounters. She barely paid me any attention, but when she did, it was usually more than I cared to deal with.

She contorted her face in an expression of seething fury, pushing herself up from the table. For a brief second, I thought I saw fear flash across her eyes as she stormed from the cafeteria. I shrugged as I continued my meal. It wasn't my problem.

I watched as Helga fidgeted in front of the class, almost feeling sorry for her. She looked as uncomfortable as I had felt. I almost wanted to tell her we could switch places. Almost.

After wasting a few moments, she took a deep breath. She began, but her voice was so quiet I could only hear snatches. I found myself actually really wanting to hear what she had to say. Mr. Simmons seemed to have the same idea, so he coughed loudly from the back of the room. Helga shot him a pained looked before shifting her weight and continuing, not bother to start over.

"Can you see how I adore you?

Bliss brings lovelight to my eyes

You speak - I hear a symphony

Flowers dance, the bluebird flies.

When first we met, I just knew

No other soulmate could there be

To settle deep within my heart

And cherish its key eternally."

She finished sheepishly, slamming the paper back on Mr. Simmons's desk. There was an appreciative applause from the room, mine included. She really knew how to write, to express herself. That was a side of Helga I hadn't seen before. Nervously she darted back to herself and sunk down into it, hiding behind her book. As I dared a glance back, I could feel an idea forming in my mind.

"Helga, please!" I pleaded, loping in front of her and blocking the door to her locker. I needed to get her attention.

"What? Can't you see I'm busy," she glared, trying to weave around me as I hopped around in front of her. I finally bit the bullet and grabbed her shoulders.

"Sorry," I quickly apologized, "But just hear me out, okay?"

She scowled, pushing past me to head out of the building.

"Oh come on!" I called desperately. "I'll…I'll buy you ice cream."

She whirled around, sizing me up skeptically. "Buy me a burger and I may be willing to listen to what you have to say."

"Great!" I breathed, sighing in relief. "Let me get that," I muttered, holding the door open for her. She simply shrugged, taking the steps two at a time. "Where you want to go?"

She looked around curiously a moment before meeting my eyes. "You mean right now?"

"Uh, yeah?" I thought I had made that rather obvious with my jumping around.

She looked like she wanted to protest, but snapped her mouth shut for a moment before blurting, "Let's go to Jerry's."

I nodded, matching her long strides with ease. I peered over her inconspicuously as we walked the short distance to the burger joint. Helga had gotten really tall in the transition from 8th grade to 9th. She hadn't gotten curvaceous as some of the other girls, but she was still pretty, in her own sort of gruff way. The most feminine thing about her really was her long blond hair, which she kept pulled back in a scruffy ponytail. I noted most of the clothes she wore were baggy and seemed to swallow her lanky frame.

"What?" she barked, breaking my assessment. Her lips were pursed out as she frowned.

"Nothing," I explained quickly, holding open the door for her as we arrived. As we slid into a booth, she called out her order to a guy behind the counter. She obviously came here a lot.

"So what does the saint of Hillwood High need from little ol' me?" she mused, drumming her fingers on the table loudly. She leaned on her hand, waiting for my response.

"Well it's about your sonnet-"

"What about my sonnet?" she yelped, her arm slipping from under her. She peered out me wide eyes, adjusting herself in the seat with a bit of extra fidgeting.

"It was really good?" I continued, wondering about her sudden outburst.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Look, I was just wondering if you'd be willing to help me…uh…get in touch with that…side," I finished lamely, letting my hands fall heavily to my side. I shot her a pleading look. I didn't know where else to turn.

"With that side?" she repeated, nodding at the waiter as he placed a milkshake in front of her. "You mean emotionally, right?"

"Right?" I nodded eagerly.

"What's the reason?"

I fidgeted with my fingers, looking down at my hands. This was certainly the last conversation I ever imaged having with Helga. "I want to…to impress a girl. Okay, maybe impress is the wrong word. I just want to show her that I'm able to express myself like she wanted me to do."

I smiled nervously, looking up to meet her eyes. She was searching my face with narrow eyes, inquisitive. "Why me?"

"Well, you're so gruff and shut up most of the time, but hearing your sonnet in class was like an opening of a window. If you can tap into it, maybe you can help me with mine-" as it slipped out of my mouth, I immediately knew I had said the wrong thing. Oh God, she was never going to help me now. I watched as he face began to flush a dark red, and fist tightening around her cup. "I'm sorry, I just meant-!"

"I know what you meant," she snapped. There was silence as her food was placed on the table. She didn't say anything as she ate, and I tapped my fingers, trying to be patient.

"Okay," she said finally.

"Really?"

"But you'll owe me a favor."

My smile drooped a little, but I nodded. "Okay. Sure. What favor?"

"I have a stupid beeper banquet of my dad's the end of next month. It's black tie, formal. He's been hinting that I need a date, since it makes his image look better to have someone to dump me off on so he doesn't look like a bad father for ignoring me. I usually take Brainy, but he'll be out of town."

"I..uh..oh…okay," I managed, surprised. I certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"No strings attached," she clarified, waving a French fry. "Don't look so horrified. I'll be teaching you my secret ways, and it'll be hard work. I've seen some of your work." I started to protest, but she ignored me. "So, I'll work with you on getting this girl of yours. If you can make progress and wrangle yourself a date by the end of this two months' time, then you're required to go with me." She held out her hand.

I bit my lip, but shook her hand none-the-less. It couldn't be that bad.


	2. Lesson One

Chapter two, up and ready to go. Thanks everyone for the reviews so far :)

Now, in the episode of the series where Arnold and Helga have rival papers, Sid gave Gerald a packet of pictures. one of the pictures is Helga practicing ballet, and she looks pretty happy with herself in the picture. I thought it'd be something she'd still keep doing, however secret.

I don't own Hey Arnold

* * *

"Your house, 6 0'clock sharp," Helga informed me, slapping a piece of paper on my desk. I blinked confused for a minute. It was only yesterday I had asked Helga for help on the subject of romance. I hadn't expected her to dive in so quickly, though I certainly wasn't going to complain.

"Why six?" I asked curiously, unfolding the piece of paper she had placed before me.

"'Cause I have ballet after school," she said bluntly, crossing her arms. I peered up in surprise, watching as she popped a bubble with the gum she was chewing. "You wanna make something out of it?" she growled menacingly. I shook my head quickly.

"Not at all," I replied quickly, keeping my comments to myself as I scanned over the piece of paper on my desk. It was a shopping list. I widened my eyes, scanning the contents. A large notepad, markers, a small composition book. "What's all of this for?" I asked, holding the list up. I gave her a confused look.

"If I'm going to teach you, I need supplies," she replied as if it was obvious. She popped her gum again. "Get them after school. I expect everything set up when I get there. You've got food, right? I'm always starved afterwards."

She was sitting on my desk now, chatting away. People were starting to stare as Helga popped her gum and chatted on about the exact details of what she ate on her pizza, and the best spot to get it from.

"Are you listening?" she called, snapping her fingers in my face. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, looking back up at her.

"What? Sorry," I stammered.

"I _said _that if you want to call and make the order later, I'll pick everything up on my way over, football head. "

"Oh, sure," I nodded in reply, scribbling down the toppings she was listing off again onto the shopping list. I was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea as she scribbled her phone number at the bottom of the list.

She had extremely neat handwriting, and she wrote her name under the number with a flourish. She popped the cap back on her purple pen before pushing herself off of my desk and plopping down in her own, her legs splayed in the aisle. Sighing deeply, I leaned forward on my elbows, covering my eyes. I desperately hoped I was making the right choice in asking Helga for help.

"What's the deal?" Gerald hissed from behind me, reaching forward to tap me on the shoulder. I turned around in my desk, shrugging. There was no way I was going to tell him Helga was going to give me romance advice on how to help Lila. He'd been at me these past two weeks to just let it go and move on. That was a lot easier said than done. Plus, after Lila and I got back together, I could explain the whole thing to him then and we'd laugh about it.

"What do you mean?" I asked in what I hoped was a casual manner. I was mid-move of placing my arm on his desk to lean on, but that seemed too casual, so I quickly jerked it back to my lap, laughing nervously.

He was silent for a minute, looking at me skeptically. "You know what I mean. Yesterday she's threatening to emasculate you, and today you guys are chatting over what pizza to order when you_ hang out _after school. Don't tell me this is just a normal occurrence. I'm not crazy man. I'm not," he said, bringing his hands to his chest.

"She's helping me with some extra credit for Mr. Simmons," I lied through my teeth, trying not to let me eyes dart from his face.

He looked like he was starting to believe me a bit, and his posture started to relax. "Oh. I didn't know we had any extra credit. What is it?"

"Oh, it was just something I asked about yesterday when I stayed behind. Helga came in while I was here. Mr. Simmons was letting me do some more love poem stuff, ya know, because I didn't read mine aloud," I babbled, hoping my lie sounded convincing. I felt bad about it, but I didn't want him going to Mr. Simmons and asking about this so called extra credit.

Luckily, he nodded his head, now completely relaxed in his seat. "I was wondering what you guys had arranged. Okay then. That makes more sense to me. I was actually afraid you and Helga were starting to hang out. I mean seriously. Helga G. Pataki?" I heard his laughter mix with the harsh popping of Helga's gum. I had dodged a bomb this time.

* * *

I roamed the store, list in hand as I tried to figure out if any of Helga's stuff needed to be specific. How big did she want the big writing pad, and how many markers did she want? Could I just get a Sharpie, or was I better getting a box of markers. What was the smaller notepad for? Did I need markers for both?

I groaned, finally just grabbing up the large twelve pack marker set. She'd have plenty from that. I grabbed a composition book from nearby, then stared at all the notebooks. All of them were the same size, though at the end were wire racks filled with the large, wide-ruled paper that the teachers had often used in the younger grades. I figured those were the largest notebooks I could think of, so I managed to wrestle one out, taking all of my supplies to the cash register to check out.

"Hey Arnold," Nadine greeted me from her perch behind the register. I forgot she worked here after school some days.

"Hey," I replied cheerfully, fishing out my money as she read my total.

"What's all this for?" she asked curiously as she finished sliding my markers into a bag.

I froze for a moment, quickly blurting out, "Some stuff for the boarding house."

She nodded and we said our goodbyes before I rushed outside. I couldn't think of a day where I'd lied more than I had today. It was nerve wracking!

I pushed open the door, calling out a greeting to my grandparents, where ever they might be in the house. I could faintly hear grandpa griping, "Pookie! Where did you find a taxidermy tiger?!"

I just shook my head, grinning as I made my way up to my room. I deposited the supplies on my desk, shrugging out of my over shirt and depositing it on the couch. I wasn't sure if I needed to clean up my room any. I mean, it was never really dirty. I just had some clothes scattered around and a few bits of crumpled up paper on the floor near my desk. Oh a whim, I quickly took my photo of Lila and myself and shoved in in the drawer on the desk. I didn't want to have to hear Helga pick her apart later. I really wasn't sure what to do, so I moved around my room sporadically. I played one of my computer games, worked a little on my science assignment, tried to nap, and then settled for watching TV until Helga arrived. I almost forgot I was supposed to order pizza, so I had to go find where I'd tossed the list.

I almost jumped out of my skin when a loud banging came from downstairs about thirty minutes later. I tripped on my way down the stairs, but I managed to catch myself and stick the landing when I got downstairs. Grandpa was just opening the door, the words "We don't want any" just leaving his lips by the time I skidded up beside him.

"She's here for me grandpa," I blurted quickly, taking her wrist and pulling her up the stairs behind me. She didn't say anything until I whirled her into my room, closing the door.

"Nice to see you too," she said sarcastically, plopping down on my couch. She was balancing the pizza box in the crook of her arm, a two liter in her hand. She put the box on the couch and popped it open, a grin on her face as she pulled out a slice of dripping pizza. Just watching her made me realize how hungry I actually was. It was for both of us, wasn't it?

I walked over, hesitantly. "Can I?" My stomach let out a large grumble as I winced.

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you thought we were ordering for two now, did you?"

I was about to protest when she started to laugh, turning the box to face me. "Go on, don't get your panties in a twist football head, I was only joking."

"Thanks," I said gratefully, sitting down on the other end of the couch and getting a slice of the pizza. It was actually really good, though I hadn't recalled ever ordering from the place before. I'd had to look the number up.

"You get my supplies?" she asked, catching some cheese that had managed to stick to her chin.

I nodded, mouth full as I pointed to the desk. She grabbed another piece of pizza, ripping off a chunk before walking over the desk. She rubbed the grease off her fingers on her jeans, setting stuff up. Lila never ate like that. If we had pizza, she wanted it on a plate and with a fork. She never ate more than once slice, and she certainly didn't like to drink it with soda.

"Just drink from the bottle," Helga mumbled around a mouth full of pizza, seemingly reading my mind. I obliged without any complaint.

She pushed my desk chair to the middle of the room so it was facing the sofa. She popped open one of the markers and scribbled onto the large pad of paper that she had propped up into the chair. "Lesson one," she read along as she wrote. "Know your girl." She underlined it before turning to look at me, waving the marker.

"Any thoughts?"

"I thought this was a romance emotional type thing," I asked, confused. "I already know her."

"But there's a difference in knowing her and _knowing_ her," Helga explained. "Knowing specific things about the girl leads you into knowing which way she would like to be wooed."

I just nodded. "Um, okay. What's that mean?"

"Okay, for example," she said gesturing to herself. "I like food and wrestling."

"Everyone already knows that-"

"But," she interrupted me, glaring as she continued to scribble what she was saying on the paper, "Those are the obvious things about me. Stuff anyone already knows. If someone were to want to get my attention, they'd have to show they paid enough attention to me to pick up on smaller details. The smaller details have the biggest impact." She made a show of underlining her last statement. "Got that?"

"Got it. Small details, bigger impact," I nodded, trying to dredge up the small details of things Lila liked.

"Now I also like poetry, ballet, and….and stuffed animals," she muttered a bit sheepishly. "And if you tell anyone, I'll shove your head in a toilet"! she threatened in her normal gruff tone. I nodded, eyes wide. Understood. "Now you can pick something from both groups to get her attention. Or two from one. It's just always better to pick two things to go on rather than one. So, let's say, you took me out for a carb loaded dinner and chose poetry as the topic of choice. It shows attention on both levels. Girls like to know you pay attention to the less obvious things."

"But how would I have known those things about you if you hadn't told me?" I inquired curiously. "I mean, I never would have even guessed-!"

"Wrong!" she yelled, throwing on of the markers at me. I flinched, shielding myself. Maybe I shouldn't have got the twelve pack. "You would know, if you paid attention." She quickly turned around and wrote ATTENTION in big letters on the paper, underling it as well. "Attention is key. So here's your composition book."

I managed to catch it as she pelted it at me. I fished the marker from where it had tried to burrow into the cushions beside me. I waited for further instruction. After making sure I was ready, she continued, "So, what's the most obvious thing your girl likes. Something anyone would notice about her."

I tapped the marker on my chin, thinking. "Horseback riding and Italian food," I finally piped up, scribbling in my book. "Okay, got it."

"Good," Helga nodded, coming to get another slice of pizza from the box. She was actually really tiny, where was she putting it all away? "Now, smaller details. What have you noticed about her that she doesn't make so obvious. What's a few things she may be a bit shy to show?"

I chewed on the marker some more, feeling self-conscious as Helga stared at me over her pizza. I scribbled down a few words, feeling like I was trying to pass a really hard exam.

"Read."

"Okay, um… she likes cheesy romance movies, flower gardens, and baking. At least I think she likes baking."

"I wouldn't use 'cheesy' when you talk to her about the movie," she instructed, so I quickly scribbled out cheesy on my paper. "So, from the info you've got here, how would you go about starting a conversation? Begin." She said this all very bluntly, heaving the two liter up to her mouth. She motioned for me to start.

"Oh, okay. Um. Hi," I began, giving a false wave to the imaginary Lila I created in front of me. This felt really awkward. I didn't like romance movies and I didn't know how to cook. "You want to go Horseback riding and eat some Italian food?"

I heard Helga snort from beside me before exploding into a full blown fit of giggles.

"What?" I demanded, my cheeks burning.

"That was smooth, Arnoldo," she joked, shaking her head. "If you wanted that approach to work, you should have started with 'Hey Baby.'"

"That bad?"

"Try something a little less forward."

"Okay. There's a new movie coming out this weekend," I fumbled. This didn't sound romantic. "Maybe you'd like to go with me? There's this great Italian restaurant nearby if you want to stop for some dinner before?" My imaginary Lila smiled at me. I should have considered she might have liked that more than a baseball game.

"Better," Helga praised. "Now you know the flipside of this is to know things she dislikes, and not push them on her. Do you know her dislikes?"

I screwed my face up, leaning back on the couch. That was hard. Lila acted like she liked everything we did. "I can't think of any," I admitted.

"Come on," she prodded, looking at me incredulously. "No one likes everything. Some people don't outright say they don't like something, but it's in their face. You ever mention something and have her face twitch or something? People have the giveaway signals."

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling sheepish as I looked back on it. There was the time that new game had come out, and Gerald and I wanted to go to the midnight release. I thought she'd like to play, so I'd got her her own copy. She'd gushed about how she'd liked it, but casually turned down every offer for us to play together. The corners of her mouth had twitched. "So maybe I can think of a few things."

"So progress here. The rest of this lesson will be to expand on her likes and dislikes, which we'll list. We'll plan you some conversation strategies around this, and start implementation. After implementation tomorrow, we'll move onto lesson two on Wednesday at 6."

"So soon?" I blurted, nervously. This was moving fast.

"You've got to build up a solid foundation with this girl before you go in for the more serious stuff. She'll want to get to know you as well. If you want a date soon, then you need to start soon."

I nodded, swallowing loudly. "O..okay. Why Wednesday?"

"I've got auditions tomorrow night, she explained, fiddling with her shirt.

"Auditions?" I asked, curious.

"For a show. We do four shows a year as our recitals. I'll take longer, and it's tiring." She continued to fidget.

"How long have you been doing ballet?" I continued, curious. "How come you never tell anyone?"

"Cause it's not anyone's business!" she snapped, trying to close the subject.

"One more question, I promise. When's the show? I'd like to come!" I said honestly, pushing myself form the couch and going to my wall calendar.

"Really?" she asked, looking surprised and skeptical all at once. "I mean, you don't have to. My parents don't even come. I don't expect anyone to come for me."

"I will, I promise," I assured her, getting a pen to write down the date.

"It's…it's the Saturday after the banquet," she informed me, coming over to point out the weekend on the calendar. I quickly scribbled it in. "Now enough on that. Back to work on lesson one."


	3. Fumble

Things coming along here. Been a bit busy, but oh well. Thanks for the great reviews guys!

* * *

_"Hey Lila, how's it going?" I asked casually, draping myself in what I hoped was a suave manner on Lila's locker. She shot me one of those pearly white smiles, brushing some of her auburn hair from her face._

_"Oh, hello Arnold," she replied cheerfully, hugging her books to her chest. Her fingers, slender and pale, were sliding up and down the sides as she waited for me to speak._

_I coughed, continuing on. "How have things been?" Was that the best I could do, really? I wanted to punch myself._

_"I've been doing ever so well," she said carefully, still waiting patiently for me to get to my point._

_"Look, I know things didn't end on the best terms for us," I blurted, "But I thought we could give it another chance. I really care about you, and I think we could go horseback riding. Or we could go to that new restaurant around the corner and eat the food while on the horses! It'd be great, we could-"_

_"Wrong move, bucko!"_

I screamed in terror, stumbling backwards and throwing my hands up in front of my eyes to shield me. Suddenly where Lila's beautiful face had been was Helga's, jeering at me. Following quickly, the rest of Lila's body morphed into Helga as well, who was growing and laughing at me. "You're doing it wrong!" she cried. "You'll never win her back like that anyway! It's a waste of time!"

I bolted upright in bed, breathing heavily. The sweat was making my sheet stick to my chest, and I ripped it away from me. Fumbling and blurry eyed, I reached around for my alarm clock to the check the time. I groaned. Oh great, I was running late. This was definitely not a good sign.

I skid into the kitchen, wresting one arm into my shirt as I shoved a piece of toast into my mouth with my free hand. "Mornin' grandma," I called, scooting around her where she was making stacks of flapjacks.

"You're in a hurry, Captain," she noted, pressing a glass of juice into my hand, which I drained quickly.

"Late," I replied, coughing on it slightly. I jerked on my other sleeve.

"Tell Eleanor hello," she called after me as I skidded out the back door and jumped into my truck. I turned the key in the ignition.

"Come on, please. Please come on," I begged as she made a few pitiful sputtering noises before going silent. "Oh come on!" I cried, slamming my hand on the steering wheel before gathering all my books and tripping out of the door. If I went fast enough I could just make it to the bus stop, if I was lucky.

I ran like my life depended on it. I was never late, ever. I rarely ever missed school either. I turned the corner just in time to see the bus slam its doors and pull off. I stopped dead, panting. "This sucks," I moaned, leaning back on the lamp post beside me. This was a sign. Definitely a sign.

"This is new," I heard Helga comment from behind me. I turned my head to see her taking her sweet time coming down the sidewalk, casually munching on a breakfast burrito. She looked content and in no way in a hurry.

"My alarm, I missed it," I explained, brushing my sweaty hair off my forehead.

"Chill. Class doesn't start for another twenty minutes, Arnoldo. You'll be there in plenty of time," she assured me, tossing her paper in a nearby garbage can. She wiped her hands on the jacket she had tied around her waist.

"I know," I moaned, frustrated. "But I like to make sure I have time."

"Time to what, pee? Seriously. I'm actually running early today, and I'm never more than a minute late to class. Don't give yourself an ulcer," she sighed, rolling her eyes. She motioned for me to follow, so I adjusted my books and caught pace with her.

"Are you sure today is the day to start talking to Li- I mean the girl," I inquired, recalling my dream as we walked. "I think the day is trying to tell me something."

She gave me a sidelong glance before shaking her head. "It seems to me you're just being a chicken about the whole thing." She rummaged in her pocket, pulling out a stick of gum. "You'll….you'll be fine. You're just striking up some conversation today. If you can't talk to the girl, how can you expect to go on a date with her?"

She had a point. If I wanted to Lila to give me another chance, I needed to just bite the bullet and deal with it. Maybe the point of the morning was to show me that nothing could get any worse than it already had so far. "You're right," I said with renewed fervor. "I just need to look on the bright side."

Shaking her head, she shoved her hands in her pockets. "You're supposed to be looking for details about her today, not bright sides."

"Same thing."

"You need to work on paying attention. Half the time you're oblivious. You miss almost everything that isn't spelled out for you."

"I do not!" I protested as I turned to look at her, frowning. "I pay attention. I see details." I could hear the other students chatter as we arrive at the front of the school. We'd made it just in time. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not the ones that really matter," she said quietly, running up the steps of the school ahead of me. I intended to catch her once I got it the doors, but she was nowhere in sight. Girls were so weird. With a shrug, I decided it was best to start studying Lila.

But that turned our harder said than done. Every time I tried to get Lila's attention throughout the day, she was whisked off by one of her friends. I was often left with my hand raised mid-wave, only to have it fall heavily back to my side. It wasn't until lunch that I was able to catch up with her finally, just as she was going to sit down. She never ate the food from the line, preferring to pack her own at home.

"Hi Lila," I breathed, hesitantly slipping into a free chair at the table. I felt relief flood over me as she smiled at me. I pushed my tray away from me so I wouldn't be tempted to play with the food.

"Hi Arnold."

"How're…things?" I shuffled my feet under the table, trying to get comfortable.

"Things are going ever so well. How are you? It's been ever so long since we last talked," she replied, smoothing her checkered napkin across the table in front of her. She slowly laid out her sandwich, fruit, and the drink in an orderly manner.

"Things have been great," I said instinctively. Wait, no, I lied. I wanted to tell her I missed her, and I thought about her all the time. I was terrible. She interfered with my school work. "I just wanted to see how you've been. See if you want to, you know, hang out?" I rubbed my hand across the back of my neck, smiling.

"Oh Arnold," she replied, giving me a pitying look. "I thought we agreed-"

"I know, I know," I interrupted, giving a force laugh. "I just meant we should keep up. Talk or something. Be friendly."

"Oh…Oh, okay," she replied, looking thoughtfully. Her expression brightened as she nodded. "Okay. I'd like that oh so much."

"Great!" I smiled even wider. "I'll just…talk to you later. Gerald," I babbled, pushing myself up and making my where to where Gerald was looking at me, eyes narrowed.

"What was that?" he started in as I placed my tray on the table.

"What was what?" I asked innocently. I ripped open a salt packet and sprinkled it over my food, playing it cool.

"You know exactly what. Man, what're you doing?" he brandished his fork at me menacingly.

I acted like I didn't know what he meant, taking a large bite of chicken. I hadn't worked out what to exactly tell Gerald yet anyway. "I was just talking to Lila. Innocent conversation." I shrugged.

"Innocent?" he repeated with disbelief. "Hanging out with Helga, talking to Lila," he puzzled out slowly, scratching his head. "You're up to something. We're supposed to be best friends here. Man, spill."

"Really, nothing," I muttered uncomfortably, filling my mouth with food so I wouldn't have to answer questions. This was going to be a lot of trouble.

"Trust me, I'll find out. I have my ways," he replied sipping on his soda. I felt the skin on the back of my neck tingle. I knew from experience that he was true to his word.

As the school day wound to an end, I once more managed to catch Lila by her locker. I had completely forgotten Helga's lesson. Look for her interests. I dared a quick glance in her locker as she opened it. It was neat an orderly, as it always was. No giveaway details. Shoot.

"Arnold," she said with a smile when she saw me, slowly pushing the door shut. I gave a silent cheer as I spotted a drawing of a kitten on her binder. That was a start. I'd need to write that in my composition book.

"Lila," I replied, grinning. "Just wondering if you'd like me to walk you home?" I inquired casually, leaning back on my heels.

"I'm riding with Rhonda today, but you're welcome to carry my books," she replied, holding them out for me.

"Oh yeah, sure," I muttered, quickly taking them and holding them under my arm as we walked through the hallway. "Soot had kittens," I tossed out hopefully, suddenly remembering how fond Lila had been of the silky gray cat we had. I wanted to mentally kick myself as I remembered Helga's earlier comment. She was right; I really hadn't paid that any attention at the time.

"Did she?" the girl next to me gushed, clasping her hands in front of her. "I bet they're absolutely adorable. How many?"

"She had three. Two little gray ones and a solid black one. She just had them over the weekend, but you can come see them anytime you want."

"I'll see when I have some time," she replied vaguely, reaching out to reclaim her books as we arrived as Rhonda's convertible. I could see Rhonda wasn't far behind us, and I wasn't in much of a mood to be caught in conversation with her today. I bid Lila goodbye, quickly running to catch the bus, pondering the day's events all the way home.

* * *

It was about seven thirty when I hesitantly rang Helga's doorbell. I guess I should have called or something, but I couldn't quite muster up the effort to go through the trouble of calling her just to snap at me to stay home. I actually really wanted to know how her auditions went, plus I wanted someone to tell about the events of the day and it couldn't be Gerald.

No one answered, so I was just reaching up to ring the doorbell again when I heard footsteps. She was always sneaking up on me it seemed. I dropped my hand and turned to smile at her. "Hi Helga."

"What're you doing here?" she asked incredulous. I felt my eyes grow wide as I took in her appearance. If I hadn't been standing on Helga's doorstop watching her stand at the bottom, I would never have made the connection these two separate women were the same person. The Helga of this morning had been wearing baggy jeans and a loose t-shirt with a jacket tied around her waist, hair in its usually sloppy ponytail. _This _Helga was dressed in unusually short pink shorts, showcasing extremely long and toned legs I'd never imaged on her. A white leotard peeped out from under the cropped jean jacket she was wearing. Her hair was actually in a neat bun, as though she'd taken time to brush it for once. It was hard to snap my mouth shut once I realized I was staring.

"What're you doing here?" she repeated, pulling a key from the zippered pocket on the bag over her shoulder. She pushed open the door, scooting around me and heading up the stairs. She didn't slam the door in my face, so I took it as an invitation to go in. I quickly slipped in, closing the door behind me.

"I just wanted to know how your audition went," I called after her, taking the stairs two at a time. I peered around the door frame of her room, watching as she slung the bag over in the corner; pulling an elastic from her hair and shaking it lose. I dared a glance around, a little surprised at the white and pink color scheme.

"They went fine," she said carefully, not bothering to look at me as she brushed out her hair in the mirror. She sat down on the stool at the vanity, slipping off her converse and pushing them away. I edged a little farther in, not wanting to impose, but still curious.

"And by fine, you mean?" I edged a bit closer to lean against her vanity, crossing my arms as I turned my attention back to her.

"I think I did well," she admitted with a small grin. She raised her eyebrows as she looked at me. "I've never gotten a lead role before, so I'm actually really nervous."

She looked more vulnerable than I'd ever seen her in that moment. "I'm sure you were great. Fantastic, in fact. When will you know the results?"

"Tomorrow," she said, grinning even wider. She turned her body so she was fully facing me now. "Now you want to tell me what you're really here about?"

I gave her an overly enthusiastic grin. "I was hoping you could, uh, go ahead and give me lesson two?"

She rolled her eyes, picking at her teeth in the mirror. "We aren't doing anything until I get some food in my system."

I don't know why I expected anything less.


	4. Details

Sorry this took much longer than I intended. I got immersed in another writing project that was more for fun, and my fanfictions got put to the side. So let me get caught back up.

Also, thanks so much for the positive reviews on this story. It's been great fun to work from Arnold's view rather than Helga's, cause I just have a different feel when writing it...if that makes sense. Also, this chapter is a bit shorter. I didn't want to add anything to the end to draw away, so I just added it to the start of the next chapter.

I do not own Hey Arnold, or any characters mention in the story.

* * *

I was seated in the chair, my arms sprawled across the kitchen table on either side of my face as my cheek pressed against the smooth wood of the table. I groaned once more as Helga leaned against the fridge, sipping on a yahoo. She was looking at me with such pity I couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"You know, you'd think you would have learned a thing or two about girls by this time in your life," she continued solemnly. I'd already gone through explaining to her the events of the day, and after she'd gotten done laughing at me, she'd proceeded to rip apart all my statements apart and over analyzed them to the point that my mind was spinning. I'd never realized how deeply girls looked into small comments.

"I have learned things, thank you very much," I retorted, my statement somewhat muffled as I turned my face on the table. I ran my hands through my hair before propping up on my elbows. Helga was still staring at me with an icy glare. "What?"

"You need to find some sort of middle ground," she said finally, walking over to the garbage can to throw away her bottle. "Lesson two is going to be on how not to be pushy and overbearing."

I had to catch myself from snorting with laughter, clamping my mouth shut as Helga whirled on me. "Is something funny, Arnoldo?"

"No, I just- you're serious?" I managed, straightening up in the chair, dropping my hands down into my lap. My head was already spinning so quickly that I might as well add some more information to juggle as well, right? I shook my head to see if it would help slow down the churning mass of thoughts. No such luck.

"Serious as Snape," she muttered, passing by the table to pound her fist on the wood in front of me before gesturing for me to follow her back up the stairs. I stumbled from the table and followed behind obediently, clamping my mouth shut to keep all the little comments I desperately wanted to ask in. Such as, _Are you aware you are the most pushy person I know?_ Or even _Are you sure this is a lesson you're qualified to teach me? _And the most important, _You do realize that the person you're the most pushing and overbearing to is 9 out of 10 times ME? _But I kept my mouth in a thin line, even keeping my breathing quiet as I took a seat in the beaten chair next to her computer desk.

"Did you bring your notebook?" she asked in her instructor's voice as she put her hands behind her back and glared down her nose at me.

"I...uh, it's in my truck," I responded, pointing out the window. "Which is at my house, because I walked," I continued, my voice slowing decreasing in volume under her stare. She sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. I felt like she was trying to melt the flesh off of my face. Maybe ballet made people violent, I wouldn't know. "It's not like I _have_ to take notes," I added, shrugging. It's not like I couldn't remember what she told me.

Helga frowned, but she finally nodded reluctantly. "Alright. If you say you can remember, I'll trust you. I, on the other hand, have a much better time organizing my thoughts on paper," she stated, pulling a binder from her backpack near the door of her bedroom. "First things first-"

"OLGA!" a voice came tearing through the house. I watched as Helga froze almost instantly, blanching for a moment before crying, "IT'S HELGA! HELGA!"

"Get down stairs NOW!"

"Don't…touch anything," she said in a mutter before exiting the room. I just nodded in reply, not sure what I was supposed to do until she got back. I pulled my foot up to my knee to cross my legs, but that felt awkward so I tried to lean back and wait. That didn't work well either since the chair had no give in the back and I was merely leaning on hard wood. I figured I could walk around her room, that couldn't be against her rules of don't touch anything. I was just going to look, not touch. Nodding in resolve, I pushed myself up and started with the tall, white bookcase in the corner. It was crammed full of not only books, but random action figures and photographs as well. I leaned forward to scan the titles and toys at a better angle. I'd show Helga how much attention I could devote to something: I could pick up on little hints. I bet this bookshelf held a whole trove of information about Helga no one else had any idea about.

The top shelf held books collected over the years of High School summers filled with dreaded summer readings. She had more books that I had, I noticed, so she must have taken the advanced courses as well. Okay, so I had that fact down. I suddenly had an idea, quickly making my way to the desk and picking up the sheet of paper Helga had pulled from the notebook. I dared a glance downstairs, but I saw no one. I could just make out the sound of voices, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying. Besides, eavesdropping was rude, wasn't it? I borrowed a pen from the cup of them on the computer desk and scribbled "Advanced English Courses" on the first line of the paper before heading back over to the bookcase. Okay, what else gave me some information about Helga I didn't know? I scanned the second row, which was filled with – my eyes grew wide as I read the titles. Romance novels. Helga G. Pataki had rows on rows of romance novels as I continued to scan. Sure, some were adventure stories I recognized and some were fantasy stories from the looks of the spine, but she still had an expansive mass of romance stories. I quickly scribbled that down on my list. I never would have guessed _that._ I shook my head in amazement, turning now to the toys and photos. Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Harley Quinn – okay, so she had a lot of superhero stuff, which I added to my list. Next I surveyed photos, which were mainly of Helga and Phoebe engaging in typical activities such as the beach, amusement parks, parties, and so forth. A few photos were from birthdays a past, and one particular photo look to be Helga in one of her ballet costumes. She was actually laughing in the picture, looking like she was really enjoying herself. It almost didn't look like Helga with how lit up her face seemed. I reached out to pick up the picture, bringing it closer to my face. She was wearing a fitted purple dress with one expansively puffy bottom, her long legs seeming to go on forever before disappearing beneath it. I was actually looking forward to her show; it seemed dancing brought out a whole new side to Helga. I was now crouched, finishing up my search up the shelf when the last section of books caught my eye. There was a large of number of volumes, multiple colors, though predominantly pink, with _Poems by Helga G. Pataki_ written neatly with permanent marker on the spines. Near the bottoms were roman numerals to dictate the order, I assumed.

I'll admit, I really wanted to look inside of one extremely badly. But Helga had told me not to touch anything, and she would be kind of upset to find me snooping through her books, and her personal poems at that. But what would one peek hurt, right? I mean, what would be the harm of me peeking at just one? I'd tell her of course, I wouldn't just spy like that and not fess up. If I admitted to my faults then it wouldn't be as bad. Resolute on my plan of action, I selected the first volume. What better place to start than at the beginning? I was just cracking it open when Helga's voice shrilly ripped into my eardrums.

"What do you think you're doing!?" She cried, swooping down on me with a vengeance. I quickly turned to throw my hands up in surrender, shielding my face at the same time.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to read some of the poems!"

She froze mid-step when she saw what was in my hand, her expression suddenly frightened as she realized what book it was I was holding. In a wobbly whisper, she inquired, "Did you read any of it?"

"No, I didn't, I promise," I assured her, lowering my arms just enough so I could see her clearly. "I was going to look, but I didn't."

"Put it back." It was a forceful enough whisper to make me obey without any hesitation. I hastily slid it back onto the shelf, pushing myself up from off the floor. "What part of don't touch anything was too complicated for you?" Helga pressed on, once again crossing her arms over her chest and directing her attention to the floor. She shuffled her feet for a minute before going to sit back at her vanity, but not before I had seen it.

"Helga, what happened to your arm?" I asked quietly, taking a step closer to her. On her upper arm, I could already see the neat, dark row of circles forming. Four distinct finger marked bruises were just starting to form.

"Nothing happened to my arm. Just go sit down already if you expect me to help you tonight," she countered, not bothering to look at me as she gestured for me to go sit back down in the chair I had been previously inhabiting.

"Helga, you don't have to lie, I can see them," I continued gently, hesitantly reaching out to touch her shoulder. She didn't flinch away like I thought she would, so I took another step closer. "Does this happen often?"

"It's not what you're thinking it is," she said in a measure voice, and I could feel her pushing her shoulders back proudly beneath my palm. "I…I tripped, and he grabbed my arm to pull me back up. It was harder than he meant to."

"Let me see the other arm."

"What for?"

"Helga, let me see your other arm," I pressed, reaching over to get a better look at her other arm. This time she did wrench away from me, bolting from the seat to angle her body away from me. "You need to go home," she said darkly, meeting my eyes with a cold stare. For a moment, my mouth fell open.

"I- Helga, you can talk to me, I promise," I said in my go to comfort tone. I held open my arms in a gesture of friendship, but she made no more to come into them. With a deep breath, I moved forward to envelope her in a hug. I felt her go rigid the moment I touched her, and once again she shrugged away from me with a snarl.

"I don't _need _to talk to anyone, football head," she snapped at me, "There's nothing wrong here. I'm a big girl and I can help myself. I'm not broken, and I certainly don't need your pity party." She took me forcefully by the arm and led me to the bedroom door, pushing me out onto the landing. "Go back home."

"But what about lesson two?" I babbled, struggling to regain my footing as I backed into the railing. Her eyes widened incredulously, and she gave a dark laugh.

"What about lesson two? I'll give you lesson two when I'm _ready_ to give you lesson two. Heaven forbid your sweet little princess has to wait a day or so more before you learn new tricks to woo her. How about this for a lesson one and a half then, alright? Stay out of personal matters that don't concern you and _go home."_

I flinched as she slammed the bedroom door in my face. She could give me all the excuses she wanted, but I wasn't going to believe them. After all, lesson one had been pay attention to little details, right? And that little detail on her arm might be part of a much bigger problem. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small list I had meant to show her about the things I had gathered, but even that list seemed inadequate now. I still knew almost nothing about the girl on the other side of the door.

With a sigh, I walked up to the door as close as I could. "Night, Helga. I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, okay?" I said gently, waiting a moment to see if she would grant me a response. After a few moments of silence, I sighed heavily. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I made me way down the stairs, pausing once I reached the floor. I realized I hadn't seen her mom anywhere, and I hadn't heard anything out of her dad since….well, since earlier. But what would I have to say to them anyway? They had to know what it was they were doing to their daughter. I shook my head as I slipped out the door, the glow of the streetlights leading my way home.


	5. Moral of the Story

Thanks for all the great reviews! It's been a lot of fun writing this one! Also, I'm compiling a list of Helga's lessons for Arnold. If you have a 'lesson' you might wan to see turned into a chapter, drop it in the reviews or my inbox. I'll be sure to credit each user who has a lesson I decide to add in.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey, grandpa, can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked a bit hesitantly as I peered around the doorframe of the kitchen. Seated at his normal place at the table was my grandpa, basically the only real father figure I had and the person I went to when I didn't know where else to turn. He'd grown older, as people often do, but he hadn't lost the spark the kept him young.

"Sure Shortman, pull up a chair. Your grandma made a pie, but don't eat too much or it'll go right through you." I noted the piece he was working on, seeing the familiar pinkish ooze of the raspberries.

"Thanks grandpa, maybe later," I assured him, moving to take my seat across the table from him. I took a bit of time to adjust my chair, unsure of how to bring up the subject at hand.

"You had something to talk about?" he pressed, putting his fork onto the now empty plate and directing his attention on me full force.

"I, uh, just wanted to get your opinion on something."

"What something?"

"I – if you think that someone may be in trouble, or being hurt, what do you do it about it? Do you say something the first time around, or do you wait? But if you wait, what if you wait too long and it happens again? If they don't want to talk to you about it, what are you supposed to even do?" I finally blurted in one breath, twisting my hands in my lap as I spoke. I looked up to meet his gaze, waiting for some sort of solution to solve my problem.

"Ah Arnold, that's a tough situation to be in. Let me tell you a story about this boy I knew by the name of Joseph Pincher."

"Uh, okay," I muttered, not sure what this had to do with my question at all.

"Joseph and I were never good friends, but we sat next to each other in school and often got paired up on projects. And let me tell you Shortman, that boy smelled. He could clear an entire-"

"Grandpa!"

"Right, well anyway. Joseph came to school worse for wear sometimes. He'd have a few scrapes and marks about him, say he'd gotten them roughhousing. Of course, it was quiet likely and we all believed it just fine and no one asked questions.

" Of course, the older we got, the less we noticed. But we got a new teacher, and she took to noticing his marks and scrapes and maybe might have overreacted just a bit. She called the boy's parents in to have a discussion. At that time, it was considered over stepping boundaries to bring up something like that in a school setting. Now what do you think happened?"

"She found out what was going on, and things worked out?" I suggested optimistically.

"Wrong. Joseph's parents backed up his story and nothing ever changed. For all we know, he really did fall down a lot. So what's the moral of the story?"

"Um, I don't know," I admitted, watching as he got up to put his plate in this sink. He shook his head, gesturing towards the faucet.

"Well come do these dishes and think it over, Shortman."

I sighed, pushing myself up and heading to the sink. I rolled up the sleeved of my over shirt before plunging my arms down into the soapy froth. The clock said it was just getting to be ten, so I'd have to go up to bed before long. I took the sponge from the back of the sink and started in the task of scraping of the remains of dinner. As I sloshed through plates and pots, I tried to figure out what I was expected to get from grandpa's story. Was I overreacting to the situation? I mean, after it all, it had only been a one-time thing, as far as I knew. Maybe I didn't need to jump to conclusions over it, I reasoned as I loaded some of the dished into the drain. Or maybe it didn't matter if I tried to intervene with her issues if she isn't willing to talk about it. If no one was willing to fess up to it, it wouldn't matter what I knew or didn't. I couldn't make her talk unless she was ready. I couldn't force her if she wasn't ready, and I couldn't force her if there was simply nothing to force.

I finished loading the dishes into the drain, hoping the latter reason.

* * *

I made sure I was up on time the morning. I'd set my regular alarm and a backup to be safe, but luckily I didn't need it. I shuffled my way to the bathroom, stifling a yawn as I started up in the shower and went about my regular morning routine. I washed my hair, as well as brushed my teeth and gathered my deodorant and cologne. I was just finishing buttoning my shirt when I remembered I had completely forgotten to do my math homework. I groaned as I shuffled in my backpack, thankful it was in only a handful of problems this time around.

I scribbled through the problems, hoping that as long as there were numbers and marks on it that she was consider it an effort at least. I was just marking in the last few problems when my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey man, you taking the bus this morning?"

"I wasn't sure yet, but I guess I can, why?" I replied, turning to look at the time. I finished scribbling in my numbers, shifting the phone so I could hold it with my shoulder as I shoved things back in my bag.

"My cars in the shop for the next few days. So I figured you can swing by and give a guy a lift, or we could catch the bus. I hate riding it alone."

"I'll meet you in ten. Later, Gerald," I replied, hitting the end button and sliding it into my pocket. I slung the strap over my shoulder, adjusting my backpack and heading down the stairs.

"Hey grandma," I called as I passed the kitchen.

"Staying for breakfast sailor?" She said with a wave of her spatula.

"Not today grandma, I'm gonna meet Gerald at the bust stop. I'll see you after school!" I waved goodbye stepping out the door and setting course for the bus stop. Gerald was already there by the time I arrived, and he grinned when he spotted me.

"Hey, Arnold. You finish up the math stuff? I almost gave up, but I finally made it to twenty-five."

"Twenty-five?" I said with a groan. "I thought we just had the worksheet."

"Well yeah, if you didn't finish it in class." He surveyed my face for a moment. "Hey, I'll let you copy mine on the bus."

"Oh, I can't," I protested, already digging through my backpack furiously again. I had completely forgotten about the problems in the book. I was just one a streak these past few days.

"Seriously, don't sweat it," Gerald assured me as he produced a copy of his problems from his binder. "You'll just owe me a favor."

"Thanks," I sighed, smiling gratefully. I tucked it into my own binder, watching as the bus pulled up. I followed Gerald to an empty seat, plopping down and starting to copy over numbers.

"Hey, I called you last night to see if you wanted to chill, but I couldn't get you. What was up?" he asked, pushing his bag against the window as he settled in.

"I was…busy," I muttered in a low voice as I bent down close to my paper, trying to look a bit more absorbed in my copying of numbers than I actually was.

"Oh come on Arnold," Gerald said sourly, falling back against the seat heavily. I felt the shake travel through me, and I pressed down hard on the papers to keep them from sliding off my lap. I glanced over to see him with his arm crossed against his chest, obviously pouting over the situation. I exhaled heavily as I continued to scratch the numbers on my paper. I should tell him the truth, I reasoned as I nodded my head. I couldn't keep lying to him, and if he found out I was, well, I didn't want to think about it. The events had sort of taken a turn – besides, I could never keep a secret from Gerald long, no matter what I told myself. I finished scribbling over the last number, straightening back up.

"I was with Helga."

"Oh yeah, sure, Helga. If you don't want to tell me what you were doing-"

"Seriously, Gerald, I went over to Helga's last night," I insisted in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure no one had suddenly decided to pay attention to us.

"What?" He choked, suddenly looking at me as though he had seen a ghost. His mouth fell open as he searched my face.

"Why would I lie about _that_, Gerald?" I said quietly, turning my attention to stare directly ahead.

"But _why_?" he continued incredulously. "Of all the girls in school, why Helga?"

"We aren't dating or anything, if that's where you mind just jumped to!" I protested, shaking my head furiously. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers, trying to think of a way that didn't make the whole situation seem like some awkward chick flick all the girls talked about. "Boy goes to girl's house to learn dating tricks to pick up a girl he likes. Through a series of unexpected events, he finds himself attached to the girl by feelings he doesn't know how to handle."

"Uh…what was that?"

"Oh gosh, no, I was trying to say that out loud!" I whined, slapping my hand over my face as I sank down in my seat. This wasn't going in the direction I meant. Maybe I should have just kept lying. Anger was easier to deal with than humiliation.

"You have feelings for Helga you don't know how to handle? Wait, is Helga the one teaching you dating tips? You went to HELGA FOR DATINGADVICE?" he babbled, his voice rising to an unexpected frequency as he realized the situation. He peered at me with wide eyes, along with half the other students on the bus. I said nothing, instead sliding down farther into my seat, hoping to just sink into the chair and out of sight. I needed the bus ride to be over.

* * *

"Explain man, and from the start. No monkey business," Gerald hissed as we exited the bus after what seemed like an eternity of riding in silence.

"Look, it's like –hey!" I yelped, stumbling as my left shoulder was rammed with enough force to make me lose my grip on the books I had been holding. I frowned as they scattered across the sidewalk, jerking my head up to reprimand the person who had so rudely – oh. "Helga, wait, I need to talk to you!" I called, but she paused just long enough to shoot me a look that had the intent to kill. She didn't say a word or make any other gestures, just continued up the stairs on her way.

"What did you do to her? Do you want to die? Because if you suddenly come up missing, I'll alert the cops to dig in her backyard," Gerald commented, crouching to help me gather my papers.

"I only-" I started, pausing a moment to groan as I literally face-palmed myself. "I was pushy and overbearing," I finally managed to get out, chuckling slightly as I took the rest of my papers from Gerald and straightened up.

Gerald merely stared at me before shaking his head. "You are a bold kid, Arnold."

"So I've heard," I replied with a grin, weaving my way between the students on the steps. "So I've heard."

"Hey Arnold! Arnold, Arnold, Hey!" I could hear Sid yelling from down the hall as I approached my locker. I was undoing the combination as he skidded up beside me with Stinky in tow.

"Hey Sid, Stinky, what's up?" I replied in a friendly manner, exchanging out some of my books. I didn't think I needed my English book since we're just doing the play, but I went ahead and loaded it in. It was on the other side of the school and I wouldn't be able to get back till lunch.

"I heard from a reliable source this morning that you and Helga Pataki are an item?"

I cringed as I heard –and felt- the loud slam of a locker just down the row. We all turned to find Helga once again glaring at me with menace. Of course this time, she was a bit more courteous and gave me a parting gesture – if you'd call the middle figure a parting gesture. I turned back to Sid and Stinky with a calm expression. "Who even told you that?"

"Martin Wheezer," Sid stated as though it was obvious.

"Martin Wheezer is in ninth grade!" I retorted disbelievingly. "Like he would know. And for the record, no we are not dating. I'd appreciate if you'd get that back to your source before anyone else hears that. No, if you'll excuse me," I concluded, snapping shut my locker and darting down the hall. "Helga! Helga, wait up!" I tried again, but the sudden ringing of the bell caused surge of movement around me, and she was soon lost in the sea of hormones. I dropped my arm heavily, sighing as I made my way to class. Okay, so lesson two was to not be pushy or overbearing, so maybe that meant I had to wait for her to talk when she was ready. Like grandpa said as well. I sighed once more. Girls were complicated.


	6. Friends

Glad you guys are enjoying this! I'm going to try to do Monday/ Wednesday updates from now on. Still collecting lesson ideas. =)

* * *

"You know, I'm still waiting for my explanation," Gerald remarked as he waved a French fry at me. "And it had better be pretty good."

I gave him a dark look as I tore open my ketchup packets, picking up the little paper fry basket and using the empty spot on my tray to make a red pool. "This is going under our agreement, section B."

His eyebrows shot up instantly, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth. "We made that stupid agreement in fifth grade, it stopped applying ages ago."

"It didn't stop applying when Phoebe had a date to the Valentine's dance sophomore year!" I countered.

"Fine! Under the stipulation of section B of our _stupid _fifth grade secrecy contract, the story at hand is never to be brought up again except when prompted by the original story teller. I promise," he pledged reluctantly, holding his fist out for out shake.

"You do realize now that if you bring this up without me initiating it, you have to be my slave for a week," I reminded him with a grin as I munched on my French fries.

"Those rules are stupid!" he whined, sulking as he twisted open his yahoo. "And you know we amended that rule in 6th grade so we can only have 5 section B secrets in our lifetime. So this makes the second for you, right after-"

"Slave!" I cried, shushing him with my hands. "We don't take about the other one!"

"Right! Right! Okay! What's the deal!"

"Okay, so remember when I stayed late to talk to Simmons the other day?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Well Helga came in to ask for the same thing. Obviously it didn't work out." I shrugged. "After hearing her poem, it occurred to me that she may know a bit more about girls and their emotional things than I could give her credit for."

"So you asked you for help? Oh come on Arnold, you're not trying to get back together with Lila, are you?" he groaned, looking at me pityingly. I recoiled away, pursing my lips.

"Why shouldn't I? I think about her all the time, I don't see the problem with it." I jammed my fry down in the ketchup forcefully.

"Arnold, man, just let her go. She's – look man, she's not going to go out with you again. I've heard rumors she's got a thing for an upper classman anyway."

I almost choked on my French fry, spluttering as I gulped down my soda. "What!? When did this happen!? Who told you?"

"Calm down! It's just a rumor. Apparently Rhonda heard it from Nadine who heard it from some friend of a friend of a friend," he said with a disinterested wave of his hand. "The point _is_, she moved on and so should you. You're an attractive enough guy, girls love you."

"I don't want the other girls," I retorted darkly. "I've felt this way since – since elementary school, it's got to mean something."

"Maybe it means you're just thinking with your penis and not your head- the one on top," he clarified, gesturing to Lila as she sat just out of earshot with her friends. "I'll admit, the air of innocence can be hard to resist, especially when she wears the things she does." I immediately was drawn to her short pleated skirt in a greenish plaid pattern. Her legs went on forever, and my stare would have to if Gerald hadn't punched me in the arm.

"Ouch!"

"My point exactly. Don't waste time with Helga when it won't do you much good."

"Speaking of Helga," I said in a hushed tone, running my fingers through my hair. "I think she may be- uh, she's got a lot of bruises," I finished lamely. I furrowed my brow, watching as Gerald's face contorted in one of understanding.

"You just can't help yourself, can you? Everyone knows Helga has a messed up home life, always has been. You can't fix everything."

"I don't want to fix everything, just her," I was saying, not taking in Gerald's warning look until it was too late. I latched onto my chair helplessly as it was ripped from the table with me still in it. Helga was glaring at me furiously.

"Get up."

"No, I'm alright."

"Get. Up."

"Yes ma'am," I squeaked as she took hold of my wrist and jerked me from the chair, leading me out into the hallway. She released me once we were out of earshot, acting as though just touching me burned her. She took a few deep breaths, looking like it was taking all her effort to not punch me or rip me apart.

"What part of 'stay of out of personal matters' did you not understand? Does it take longer from things to get through your football head, or are you just stupid?" she said in a carefully managed voice, clipping the ends of her words.

"I- no, Helga, I'm sorry. I'm just – I don't want you getting hurt," I explained feebly.

"So you think telling my personal matters to tall hair boy didn't hurt me?" she snapped, gesturing to herself. "You think that doesn't hurt?"

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to help," I replied lamely, rubbing my arm furiously. I dropped my gaze to the floor.

"No, you will look at me when I'm talking to you," Helga said firmly, grabbing my chin in her hands and jerking my face up enough so I had nowhere to look but her face. She may have been a tall girl, but I was still taller. "When I tell you something is personal, I expect you keep it out of your mouth. I don't need you to 'fix me'. I'm not broken, and I'm doing just fine with the things the way they are."

"I'm just-"

"Excuse me, you will wait until I'm done talking," she shushed me. "I agreed to help you, and I didn't tell anyone because I knew you wouldn't want me to. That is a simple part of being friends is that you know when and when not to keep your mouth shut. If you want me to keep helping you, then you better sort out which is which and keep anything with my name attached to it out of your mouth in mixed company. Are we clear?"

I nodded.

"I said are we clear?" she reiterated, staring me straight in the eyes.

"Yes, we're clear," I said in a gentle tone, gently removing her hand from my chin. "I'm sorry. You were right. I shouldn't have brought that up to someone without talking to you first. But you wouldn't even let me try this morning!"

"I was mad at you!" she said as it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't like to talk when I'm mad, but you left me no choice with your gossipy mouth. How much trouble can you cause in one day?"

"Apparently more than I originally thought," I said with a sheepish grin. "So we're still friends then?"

"What?"

"Friends. We can still be friends?" I asked hopefully.

"Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess we can still be friends," she muttered in quiet tone, dropping her gaze. "I've….I've got to go," she said as she pulled her hand free the grasp I hadn't realized I still had on her hand. I watched as she wrapped her arms around herself, walking down the hall with her head down. I exhaled as I watched her, still feeling all her words as though she had slapped me in my face. I'd have to make a bigger gesture of an apology. I wracked my brain for a moment, suddenly struck with inspiration.

* * *

I knew there was a bookstore a few blocks from the boarding house, though I never really went to it. I stared through the door a bit at the rows and rows of bookshelves and all the people milling about inside. I pushed open the door, not sure where to start. I started down the center aisle, reading the section headings. With a shrug, I figured I'd give the romance section a shot. It didn't take me long to realize that was not the best place to go, as most of the covers on display had women with their clothes practically falling off. I cringed, quickly shelving the book I pulled out. So maybe this was going to be a bit harder than I originally thought it might be. I had no idea what any of these books were about, and I didn't want to buy her a book as peace offering only to have it be filled with really graphic laugh scenes. I could only imagine her face as she puzzled out why I would give her a book full of things like _that._

"Can I help you find something?" a friendly voice asked, and I turned to find a girl a few years older than I was eyeing me curiously. I sighed in relief.

"Actually, yes. I'm trying to find a gift for my friend. I sort of did something I shouldn't have. Anyway, she likes romance novels, poetry, and things like that. But I really didn't realize how expansive this section was," I explained, turning to see how far down the aisle went.

"Oh, sure! Maybe you give me some titles of her favorite books or something, we can find something similar to it. Maybe we should start there."

"Oh, yeah, okay," I replied optimistically, rummaging in my pocket for the crumpled list I had shoved in my pockets before leaving the boarding house. Luckily I'd written down a few of the titles when I was snooping. "I, well, here's a list of what's on her bookshelf."

She took the list without any questions, which I was grateful for, and gestured for me to follow her to the little service center in the middle of the store.

"So what'd you do?" she asked casually as she navigated the computer.

"Huh? Oh! I guess I shared something that was meant to be a secret. I didn't think it through," I said sheepishly, scuffing my foot on the floor.

"I see," she replied with a nod. "Oh, here we go! What about any of these?" she turned the monitor, bringing up a list of titles. It felt like I was trying to read Greek, I had no idea what any of the books were about, much less if she would like them.

"Maybe I should just get her a gift card," I groaned, closing my eyes. "I don't know what any of these books have in common."

"You can't buy a gift card!" the girl protested suddenly, eyes wide.

"What's wrong with a gift card?"

"If you're buying a gift as a peace offering, it needs to be personal. Something that looks like you took what she cares about into consideration. Gift cards are nice, but they mean one of two things." She held up two fingers. "One, that you know what she likes but don't' care to look for it, or two, that you don't pay enough attention to bother to know what she likes. Don't be one of those people."

"Okay, okay!" I surrendered, pursing my lips. Okay, think, what else could I get her? "Oh, ballet! Do you have anything on ballet?"

"I'll look!" she chirped, once more pulling up a list. "Oh, we've just got a new book on technique, or we have a few on specific dancers. We also have a few really nice photography books. Want to look at those?"

"That'd be great!" I said, relieved. I followed as she excited the counter and led me to a section of books on the wall. She pulled a couple of books from the shelf, holding them out to me. I flipped open the first one, but it wasn't anything like I thought she'd like. It was breaking the dancing down into technical terms, and she didn't seem one for technicalities. I handed it back, along with the biographies. I didn't know if she even had a favorite dancer. The next book was one of the photography books, and it was actually pretty interesting. I flipped through to find photos of all different styles, as well as different shows. I'd never seen a ballet show before, but these looked really neat. Each picture had a few captions underneath. "I think we'll go with this one," I decided, nodding my head in a resolute manner.

"Come one, I'll go check you out."

"Sounds good," I replied, weaving back through the shelves to the register. "Thanks for the help," I added with a smile as I rummaged in my pockets to hand over the cash. She smiled in returned, counting back my change to me.

"No problem. Hope things work out."

"Yeah, me too," I replied with a shrug. "Thanks again!" I took the bag from her, heading back out onto the sidewalk. There was a small candy store nearby as well, so I ducked in about bought a small bag of plain chocolates. Girls were supposed to universally like chocolates, right? Just in case the book didn't work, I wanted to make sure I had a back-up plan. The sun was starting to fade as I made my way to the nearby bus stop. I knew I had a vehicle, but I preferred to ride the bus when I could. It was a lot cheaper in the long run. Most of the seats were full by now, people getting off of work and so on. I took one of the few empty seats left, next to a girl who didn't look like she could be any older than ten. She didn't look at me as I sat down; she just scooted closer to the window, staring straight ahead. Her expression was very surly, her pants hanging well below her shoes. I knew how to recognize and a hand-me-down shirt when I saw one.

"I like your headband," I offered up, giving her a smile. Her expression softened a bit, but she didn't say anything. "It's unique." Her dark hair was held back from her face by a chunky headband, studded with multicolored stones and glitter.

"Thanks," she muttered. "I made it myself."

"It's really neat," I said sincerely, giving her a smile. I noted her glance over to the gifts I was holding in my lap.

"You like ballet?" she asked a bit shyly, looking up at me curiously.

"Huh? Oh, no, but a friend of mine does. This is a gift for her. Do you like ballet?"

She nodded. "I do, but everyone at school says I can't be a dancer because you have to be pretty."

"Well you're very pretty!"

"No I'm not," she huffed, kicking her foot against the seat in front of her angrily. "Everyone says so."

"Well everyone is wrong," I assured her. "My friend, when she was your age, I know a lot of people used to make fun of her about her looks. But I think she makes one of the prettiest dancers I've ever seen."

Her eyes widened as she listened. "Really? Is she your girlfriend?"

I laughed. That was just seeming to follow me everywhere. "No, she's not. But I can still think she's pretty, like you." I tore open the bag and handed her a piece of the chocolate. "This is my stop. I'm Arnold, by the way."

"Lucy. I can have this?"

"Yes,"I laughed, waving as the bus halted at the stop I usually boarded to get to school. I stepped off, making my way down the sidewalk in the direction of Helga's house. I was about to knock, not remembering if this one her nights of practice or not. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I finally opted to pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling for Helga's number. I punched in,_ "I left something on your porch. -Arnold" _, hitting send as I walked back down the sidewalk toward my house. That way she could look at the stuff without me hovering over her shoulder, and she could thank me when she was reading. I think by this point, I wouldn't even need my class on lesson two.


	7. confusion

This chapter took me forever to write, despite it's shortness. I'm sorry if it's not up to interesting standards, but I wanted to get some depth in their relationship a bit more!

Enjoy!

* * *

I made it up the stairs, showing off my fabulous balancing skills as I held my schoolbooks in one arm while my other balanced a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a glass of milk on it. Years of practice let me push the door open with my foot as swiftly turning the knob with the hand that had been securing the books. I pressed them to my side, not allowing them to hit the floor. All those instances of being too lazy to make double trips had culminated in this moment. I pushed the door open wide, making my way to my desk so I could sit both my books and plate down. I fished my Math problems out of my book first, making sure they were not to be forgotten this time around. I popped a piece of cake in my mouth as I settled in to get to work.

I'd spent most of supper worrying over whether or not Helga had gotten my gift. She'd never texted or called me, so I had to keep reminding myself not to worry about it. That proved a lot easier said than done, every few minutes my mind imagining events that could lead to the gifts being snatched from her stoop by a delinquent or homeless person. I'd barely managed to eat anything, but I couldn't pass up grandma's cake. I set in to my work, hoping it would prove a much better distraction.

I was just finishing up my English and my cake, debating whether or not it would be worth it to go back to get another slice, when my door burst open with the force of a tornado. I spun in my chair, fork hanging at a precarious angle from my mouth, my pencil still poised in my hand. Standing in my door way was none other than Helga Pataki, and she looked ready to pounce. You think I'd be surprised, but I wasn't.

"Can I help you?" I managed in a surprisingly calm voice, removing the fork from my mouth.

"What the hell do you call this?" she snarled, brandishing the book and chocolates at me. Her eyes flitted over my face briefly before locking onto my eyes. I swallowed loudly.

"I, uh, gifts?"

"Who said you could buy me gifts? Who said you could be nice to me?" she wailed somewhat piteously, stamping her foot on the floor like a twelve year old. I couldn't help but grin.

"Isn't that the point of gifts?" I replied, raising my eyebrows. I was still sitting in my chair, unsure of whether or not I should get up. I had never been in a situation like this before. Lila had always accepted any gifts I got her with a courteous little "Thank You, that was ever so sweet."

I was caught off guard, barely registering her movement as she swiftly crossed my room to envelope me in a bone crushing hug. It lasted no more than an instant, just long enough for her to mutter a swift thanks before pulling away, a peculiar expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" I stammered, trying to recall a time I had felt this confused before in my life.

"I- no one gets me gifts," she admitted, shifting her weight between her feet as she stared at the floor. "I mean, not just because or anything like that."

I nodded, clamping my mouth shut when I realized I was just sitting down gaping. "Don't worry about it, it wasn't a big deal," I assured her. "You…you wanna sit down or something?" I jumped up from my chair, moving to push my pile of dirty clothes off the couch. "I was gonna wash those later," I muttered.

She just nodded, sitting down stiffly with her gifts hugged to her chest. "I noticed you opened the chocolate."

"Oh, I gave some to a little girl on the bus," I explained, rubbing the back of my neck. "I hoped you wouldn't mind."

"You would," she said, her lips twitching into a smile.

"I would what?"

"Give chocolate to little girls on the bus. Heartbreaker!"

"No, I was just-!"

"I was joking!" she interrupted, laughing. After a moment of shuffling her feet on the carpet, she stood up. "I guess I should get going. Thanks again…ya know, for the gifts."

"You don't want to stay?" I found myself blurting, and I clamped my mouth shut as she peered at me curiously.

"You want me to teach you my next lesson? Sure, I guess I could," she trailed as she deposited her things on the couch. Quickly she retrieved the notepad from the floor, picking up one of the markers resting near it and printing "Lesson two" in bold letters. She had once again moved to prop it in my chair, starting to make bullet points.

"No, I think I've got lesson two," I said with a laugh as I crossed to where she was standing. I leaned down to pluck the marker from her fingers.

"Excuse me, who's the teacher-" she pulled her arm back, "here…" Her voice dropped off suddenly as she spun around to face me, her eyes growing wide. My lean and her turn had left her nowhere to go but a few inches from my face. My hand was still locked on the marker, and childish instinct kept me holding to it despite the look on her face, which was desperately uncomfortable.

"You have really pretty eyes. I've never really looked at them before." I'd meant it as nothing more than a compliment, but Helga immediately released the marker to retreat a few steps away from. "Did I do something?"

"Just go sit on the couch," she ordered, pointing as she skirted around me to retrieve another marker. I didn't, however, instead turning to peer at her curiously. I didn't understand why I had gotten the reaction I did.

"Did…did I do something wrong?" I repeated slowly, furrowing my brows together as tried to puzzle it out.

"Couch!" she said a bit gruffly, gesturing for me to move. "I can't teach you if you don't sit." She avoided my gaze as she made her way around me to reclaim her position in front of the writing pad.

"Helga, you misunderstood," I said, trying to give a light laugh that I hoped would lighten the tension that seemed to be hanging like a cloud in the room. It came out a bit more forced than expected, so I settled for rubbing my hands against my pants legs to keep them from just fidgeting at my sides. "I just meant, ya know, we could chill. Just hang out or something?"

This did get her attention, and she shifted her head to quirk and eyebrow at me. "Just 'hanging out' wasn't part of the deal," she reminded me in rough tone. "That's why you have friends. I'm here to teach you."

"But earlier you said we _were_ friend!" I reminded her, trying to keep any trace of exasperation out of my voice. She gave more mixed signals than a broken traffic light.

"I meant- well we are," she flustered a bit, furiously writing on the notepad.

"Then why do you need some ulterior motive or something to even talk to me!" I retorted, gesturing at the gifts on my couch, then to the notepad. "It's been like this for, heck, over eight years now!" I dropped my hands, breathing heavily. I hadn't intended to steer the conversation in that direction, but it just went. Usually I would have immediately apologized, but this time I kept my mouth shut.

I watched as she slowly capped the marker, her expression tight. "Who said I needed some ulterior motive?"

"You know you do! You've never just talked to me just to talk. You were always teasing me, and then you just ignored me completely!"

"Don't think you can get away with playing innocent," Helga replied in a measure voice, glaring at me. "You never just wanted to talk either. You always wanted to be as far away from me as you could. So I really don't see why this conversation is relevant. We never 'just' talked before, and there is no reason to start something like that now." She shrugged, but I could see the heat in her cheeks as she kept her focus on the notepad.

"Why are you trying to make this complicated?" I moaned, finally relenting and sitting down on the couch. I covered my face with my hands, leaning back to lie on my back. I heard her snort.

"No, trying to build a friendship out of this is what makes it complicated," I heard her say. "You're reading into this too much."

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head as I sat up, peering at her. "I don't see why this has to be some big deal." My head was starting to buzz with the small hum of a headache. This wasn't what I thought would happen.

""You think that once you get your girl, or whatever, that you'll still have time for me? That you'd still want to have anything to do with me? Don't kid yourself; things will go back to the way they were before we started this deal. So I'd like it if we could just end this with a clean break." She had stopped her writing, which I noticed was nothing more than random words that didn't relate in anyway at all. I took a breath to try and calm my mind, furrowing my brow as I slowly started to click all the pieces together. After a moment, I felt myself smile.

"So that's what this whole thing is about? You're afraid I'll just forget about you?" I shook my head, feeling a laugh coming. I tried to suppress it as she shot me a dark look, but I couldn't. Her face just made it all the more funny to me. "Helga!" I managed in a half laugh, half apologetic moan as she gathered up her things and started toward the door with a pout on her face. I lunged out, grabbing her wrist to stop her. I was sure this was an infringement on lesson two, but I was sure all lessons had an exception.

"Let go of me," she snarled, trying to jerk away.

"No, I'm not," I replied, finally managing to reign in my laugh. "Helga, I wouldn't do that to you. You have to trust me. Please."

I held my breath as she turned her steely gaze on me. Her eyes searched over my face intently, and I caught just a slight change in her expression. It was slight, but it immediately softened her face – I wondered how many times I had missed it before. "I don't do well with getting attachment," she finally sighed, looking up at me through her heavy lashes.

"That's what makes friendships great, though. Much better than keeping this up on just an acquaintance type thing." I grinned hopefully.

"I- look Arnold, I'm just not sure this will work out for me."

"So let's do this on test run basis? We can resume lessons starting tomorrow or something?" I offered, releasing her arm as I shrugged.

"I don't think so," she replied, shaking her head. "We'll just keep it in the same as we have been. We just meet for lessons, and nothing more." She didn't wait for a response before heading out the door, leaving me standing extremely confused. I was also feeling a bit more disappointed than I felt I should be, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why.


	8. Phonecall

Okay guys, next piece is up! Thanks so much for the positive reviews, and keep suggesting lessons!

* * *

Monday morning seemed to take ages to arrive, which was saying something considering Monday's always seemed to sneak up too quickly. I hadn't had any more lessons last week after my somewhat argument with Helga, which meant my feeble attempts to try and talk to Lila were full of more of my fumbles and embarrassing words. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to revert back to friendship with a girl I couldn't look at it without wanting to touch. I knew I was supposed to start back from square one, but I wasn't sure how too. I'd established square one in fourth grade, and even then it had not been the likely start of our now relationship. I'd carried her books for her once more, and I'd managed to not pepper every few sentences with suggestions of hanging out. That was the highlight of my week.

But spending time at school with Lila had meant no time for Helga, which seemed to suit her just fine, considering she seemed to go even farther out of her way to avoid me when we were in public. It was like she wasn't even the same girl. Which was a strange, though, considering once I'd never though she could be anything else but cold and rough. But today was a holiday, and she'd passed me a note on Friday before the bell saying she'd be coming over around lunchtime. If you could call slamming a ripped piece of paper onto my books as I was clearing my desk really passing me a note. She hadn't even waited for me to read or agree, but I figured she knew I wouldn't argue against it.

"That's right, I'll meet you at about two, alright? Yeah, Helga's stopping by," I sighed into the phone as I tried to make my bed with one hand. Gerald groaned heavily on his end. "Look, I don't know what for either. She didn't really say, so I don't know how long it'll take. I'll call you when she leaves. We'll have plenty of time to catch the double feature. Later." I clicked the phone shut, plugging it back into the charger on the shelf above my pillow. The time was 11:30, and I'd officially finished all my chores. I'd maybe a slacked a bit over the weekend, so I'd been up for a few hours or so washing clothes and cleaning my room. Of course this had nothing to do with Helga coming over; I just preferred having my room clean and neat on occasion. Like today.

I moved to collect all the shirts I had laid on my couch, waiting patiently on their on their hangers. I really had a lot of plaid, now that I thought about it. I shrugged, picking them up and moving them to my closet. I heard my door slam open, and I didn't even both to look over. She had a signature way of opening doors, that's for sure.

"Hey look, you cleared a space for my butt!"

"Good to see you too, Helga," I laughed, closing my closet doors before directing my attention to her. Once again, I choked a bit on the air at the sight of her lounging on my couch. She even _dressed_ different when she wasn't going to school. It was amazing to think that a pair of worn denim shorts, loose hair and a tank-top could turn her into a head-turner like that. I blinked rapidly, clearing my thoughts as she stretched her legs out in front of her. I was thankful when she shook a fast food bag in face, giving me somewhere else to direct my vision.

"You want some or not?"

"Oh yeah, sure," I stumbled, sitting down a safe distance from her as she pulled out French fries and passed them over to me. I grabbed a few and popped them into my mouth, trying not to stare much as she rubbed her salty fingers over her shorts. In a fluid motion, she made her way over to the notepad, once again setting it up in position.

"First off today, we're going to officially set up a schedule for lessons. We don't need to meet up in a haphazard manner like last week."

"What was wrong with last week?" I asked through the food in mouth, holding out my hand to try and cover my mouth slightly.

"It was unproductive. We met about three times, and I only officially taught one lesson. You have six weeks until the banquet. With luck, you should be able to get your date before then. Okay?"

"Uh, okay then. So when are we-?"

"I'm free on Wednesdays and Fridays. So if we meet right after school both days, you can have two lessons a week. Plus we'll still have time for our own stuff." She wrote down the days in her curly script.

"Only twice a week?" I asked, eyes wide. It didn't seem like we'd accomplish much at all in the time frame.

"Yeah. That's at least twelve more lessons for you to do. That should be plenty," she said in a matter of fact tone, placing her hand on her hip. "And that doesn't even include today."

"Oh. Well, okay, I guess you're right," I agreed a bit lamely, shrugging. When the prospect of two months had been laid out, it had seemed like much more than all of fifteen lessons. But then again, I hadn't accounted for Helga really having a life outside of school, so that had been my own oversight. Of course she probably had other friends and commitments that didn't involve me. I mean, I was sure I'd be spending more time with Lila once I actually starting implementing more of the lessons.

"Of course I'm right," she said a bit smugly, skipping down a few lines to write "Lesson 3: Complimenting."

I felt my lips twitch involuntarily. I felt this must be a response to the events of our last meeting. I kept my mouth shut, however, and flipped open my composition book to hastily add 'compliments' to my bulleted list.

"So today is going to be when it's appropriate to compliment the person of your affection. Also, on when not to compliment," she added a bit crisply, turning to look at me. I merely raised my eyebrows, not sure what the look she was giving me was supposed to mean. "All girls like compliments. But if a girl doesn't feel your compliment is sincere, or your compliment follows an awkward situation, you may find yourself in a bad position," she explained as she made a few notes. There was no way I was just reading into this too deeply; this was definitely some sort of retaliation for earlier. I leaned back into the couch, pursing my lips as I wrote the lesson heading into my composition book. So I told her she had pretty excessive people just weren't accustomed to that sort of thing. I guess I could see how Helga could be one of them.

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you the other day," I apologized, dropping the book down into my lap.

"Huh?" she said airily, turning to look at me with an air of cluelessness about her. I would have bought it if not for her excessive blinking, which made it look like she had something her in eye.

"About making you feel awkward with my compliment last time," I explained, playing along with the act.

"Oh, I had forgotten," she said with a shrug, turning back to the board to finish writing her heading.

"Isn't that what the point of this lesson is about?" I blurted, gesturing to her even though she couldn't have been paying me any less attention.

"You're making the mistake of assuming the lessons have anything to do with us," she said a bit frostily. "We discussed this last time."

"Whatever you say, Helga," I muttered, just deciding to let it go .If she was going to insist on blocking me at every turn, I wasn't going to fight her anymore.

"So the first part of your lesson on complimenting is the when! When is it okay to do it, and what do you have to remember when you do it?" she began, suddenly switching into her teacher voice. I figured I might as well switch solely into my student mode, so I balanced my composition book in the crook of my arm with my pen poised at ready. "Any compliment you say has to come straight from the heart, so sincerity is key." She made a bullet point, writing sincerity next to it. I copied in silence as she continued on, "For example, don't tell a girl what she wants to hear just because you think she'll like it."

"Wait, what?"

"Let me clarify. Everyone knows that Stinky's nose is practically a ski slope for midgets, so I wouldn't go up and tell him his nose is tiny in a complimentary tone just because it'd make him feel better." I didn't want to laugh, so I bit down on my lip desperately to keep it in. "Pick something that's accurate. Clarified enough?"

"You can proceed," I managed through my snickers.

"Also, try not to make your compliment sound rehearsed or cheesy. This is only cute if the girl already likes you." She continued to write on the pad, and my head was already full with only two bullets written down. What was classified as cheesy? What if I froze when I got up to Lila? Would Lila get creeped out like Helga had? I still didn't even know what had gone wrong in that situation! "So when is it okay to compliment? It depends on what point in the relationship you are. In the first steps, spread them out so as not to come on to strong. The closer you relationship is, the more compliments you can give. Is this getting through to you?" She looked over her shoulder at me.

"I think so," I confirmed, focusing my attention to write a note in my book. "You look beautiful with your hair down, by the way"

I heard her mutter something, but I couldn't quite make it out. "So saying something like that to her is okay? Was that right?" I asked, looking up to see if she'd given me a yes or a no. Instead I found her with a flushed face, which she quickly turned away from me.

"You mean for your girl. Yeah, it's a good one." She moved on to the next heading on the notepad, her back to me once again.

"Okay, I think I can do that then," I said, sighing in relief.

"When not to compliment!" she said as she underlined her next bulleted point. "When the situation feels tense or awkward. Complements are not ice breakers. And my second bullet, when it can be misconstrued." She added a bit of extra lines under this second one.

"So I take it the second one is the most important of those?" I asked curiously.

"They're about equal," she said with a biting tone, and I suddenly got the impression the rest of this lessons and its practice were going to be a piece of work."

By the time two rolled around, I was rushing down the sidewalk with my phone pressed to my ear. "I'm sorry Gerald! I promise I'll be there! Just get my ticket, and I'll pay you for it when I get there! I know, I know – I'll owe you one. Later." I pressed the end button, shoving it down into my pocket as I weaved around the people on the sidewalk. I muttered apologies as I tripped and stumbled along, knowing I had less than five minutes to get to the theatre. Gerald and I had planned the Evil Twin double feature day for over a week now. It was a super discounted price today, and no way was I going to miss it.

"Hello Arnold!"

I skidded to a halt at the voice, knowing it was just my luck that Lila would be at this exact spot at this exact moment in time. I sighed inwardly, torn at what to do.

"Hi Lila."

"You were running ever so fast. I'm sorry; I wasn't trying to keep you. I would feel ever so bad if I made you late," she said, giving me one of her perfect smiles.

"It's alright, I'm just late to catch a double feature with Gerald," I explained, running my fingers through my head. I could feel my leg start to twitch impatiently as I stood.

"Go meet you friend. I'm ever so fond of a guy who keeps his dates."

I felt my knees turn weak, but I grinned in response. "That's definitely me." I glanced down at my watch. But not today. Definitely not today. "I've got to go," I apologized.

"I'll talk to you later."

"I'll wait for it!"

I was out of breath by the time I got to the theatre, and I exhaled in relief as I met Gerald at the door.

"I was about to think you ditched me," he said a bit sulkily as he passed me my ticket.

"Never. I'm not the ditching type," I assured him, handing my ticket to the girl checking them. She ripped it, directing us to the back left.

"I know, I was just saying you had me worried," he said, cracking me a smile as we made our way to the back of the theatre.

"Sorry, after Helga left I sort of fell asleep on the couch while working on some homework." And by homework, I mean drafting possible compliments and practicing them. But what kind of homework didn't need to be brought into this conversation.

We filed into our seats, settling in for hours of mind numbing horror films.

"Dude, that was epic! When he flipped the bus? Ah, genius," Gerald was saying as we dumped our popcorn and drink containers into the garbage.

"I know! Or when the girl got impaled on the fence?" I replied eagerly, shaking my head. "These movies never cease to top themselves."

"I totally agree. You wanna stop for ice cream or something?"

"Naah, no thanks. It's getting a bit late, plus I'm full from all those snacks," I said with a shrug, waving as we parted our ways on the sidewalk. I was surprised when I felt my phone start to buzz in my pocket, and even more surprised to find it to be Helga. "Helga?"

"Sarah's Sweet Shoppe, now!" she demanded, her voice cracking slightly.

"I –ah, okay. I'm on my way," I replied, flabbergasted. It took me a minute to register than she had hung up, and it was a simple task to go left at the next corner instead of staying straight. I shoved my hands in my pocket, picking up the pace as I turned the corner and continued on. A few stores more and I was standing outside of Sarah's. I could see Helga sitting in a booth in the back, so I quickly picked through the evening crowd at the door, making my way to the booth and sliding in. "Something up?"

"Is something up?!" she snapped, her brows furrowed as she nursed a large chocolate milkshake. "No, I just called you for no reason."

"So what's the matter?" I asked cautiously, fiddling with my hands in my lap. This was so out of character for her, I had no idea where to even go.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?! Phoebe is out some stupid dinner with her parents and couldn't meet me, and I couldn't stay a minute longer in that stupid house. And I didn't have any other stupid choice to call. I don't have friends."

"So we're friends," I prodded once more, knowing I was pushing it again.

"I just didn't know who else to call! I didn't want to be alone," she protested, looking down at the table.

"And that's usually when you call a friend," I said, leaving forward on my elbows.

"I don't want to be friends with you!" she finally snapped hotly, slamming her fist down on the table. Her milkshake splattered slightly on the table, but she ignored it.

"Then why did you call me?" I said calmly, still resting on my elbows.

"I didn't have anyone else," she muttered, her mood fluctuating once again.

"Oh come on Helga, I'm not the only person in your class."

"So maybe sometimes you're a good listener," she admitted, turning her head so her hair covered her face. "And I like to talk to you."

I smiled, leaning back in the seat. "So then talk to me about what happened, and why you called."


	9. Dreams

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter...I have this habit of trying to keep my chapters a certain length...I'm trying to break it, and go for longer chapters. You guys want fewer, but longer chapters? Or are the shorter chapters better?

Review guys!

No Arnold belongs to me :/

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Two Milkshakes, three slices of triple chocolate cake, and a shared chocolate cream muffin later Helga was on a strange sort of hyperactive sugar high, her previous emotional barriers lost in a swirling vortex of sugar. It had started off a bit like pulling teeth, prying bits and pieces of information out after the first milkshake. I'd gotten another because she seemed to like fiddling with the straw so her hands stayed busy. About halfway through, her words began to come out more freely, and I'd learned more about Helga in the past couple of hours than I had in years knowing her.

I'd learned her mother was an alcoholic who spend most of her days in a self-induced " smoothie" stupor, and most of her time was spend in various stages of sleep around the house. I'd been informed that her dad spent most of his waking hours obsessing about work on a scary level, preferring beepers to his family. I'd also been sad to hear she had no identity of her own at home and was constantly trying to separate herself from her sister, but to no avail. She didn't know what to with herself half the time at home and on occasion her dad would come home in a state to rival her mom, and on those nights he was violent an unpredictable. Tonight had been one such night, and she had shamefully shown me a cut on her arm where she'd been hit by glass as he'd thrown a cup at the wall in a rage over how there hadn't been a prepared supper. Then she'd slowly poked at the cake, and I'd steered the conversation to lighter subjects. And that was when things started to get fun. We'd turned to sharing funny experiences we'd gone through, and had completely lost track of time.

"And so then I had to deck him one, because seriously? Who thinks it's okay to hide in a garbage can and stalk a girl?" she said, tearing at the muffin as she laughed.

"How do these things happen to you all the time?" I laughed along with her, my sides sore for how much we'd been laughing in the past fifteen or so minutes.

"Well, criminy, I was just stepping over for some privacy. So maybe I needed to duck into the alleyway –how did he even know?"

"Why would you suddenly need to duck in an alleyway?"

"Can't a girl seek privacy in an alleyway?" she defended, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"I guess so, sure. But that's just a weird place."

"I've been in weirder situations in general," she assured me with a grin.

"Try me," I challenged.

"So this one time I accidentally left a message on this guy's answering machine telling him I was basically in love with him – you know, due to some laughing gas from the dentist. I ended up having to break into his house and steal the tape, I was so embarrassed."

"You broke into his house?" I asked incredulously, my eyes wide. "Wait, hold on. You had a crush on someone? When!?" I rushed, wanting to know who she could have possibly had a crush on it. "How long ago?" I pressed again in a rush, feeling a strange sensation in my stomach. "Do I know him?"

"Oh gosh, calm your tits Arnold. It was, like, fourth grade," she said, brushing me off with a sweep of her hand. "What's it to you who I had a crush on?"

At that moment, the girl who had been keeping our sweet tooth supplied made her way shyly to the table. "Sorry, I hate to interrupt, but we're closing. I'm not rushing you guys, but-"

"Oh, excuse us. Don't worry about it. I got it," I assured the girl, pulling out my wallet and passing the girl some money. I then neatly stacked the plates before sliding out of the booth. Helga nodded, following my example. We thanked the girl then headed out to the sidewalk.

"Hey, thanks. Ya know, for coming like you did," she muttered as we stepped out into the chilly night air. She crossed her arms over her chest, turning her attention down to the street.

"Hey, it's no big deal," I said with a smile. "You want me to walk you home?" For a moment, I thought she was going to say no, but she shrugged in response.

"Whatever floats your boat, Arnoldo."

"Mainly I want to hear about this boy," I half teased, shoving my hands down into the pockets of my jeans. I walked along beside her, glancing over at her as we walked.

"I told you it was years ago. What's the big deal, you jealous?"

"Psh, no." Maybe, a little.

"You didn't even know that guy," she said with a toss of her hair. "And I'm still not telling you."

"You are ridiculous."

"Says the boy who is coming to me for female advice."

"Touche," I chuckled, running my fingers through my hair. She didn't say anything more, and we walked the rest of the short distance in silence.

"This is my stop," she said as we arrived at her house. I watched as her face fell slightly as she stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the door.

"You know, you don't have to stay here tonight," I offered up quietly, scuffing my shoe against the pavement.

She whipped her head around to stare at me. "Uh, I hate to break it to you, but I don't really have the fund for a hotel. And Phoebe can't have guests on a school night."

"You can always stay with me. I mean, I'm sure my grandparents won't mind. You could-"

"Thanks, but I don't think that's such a great idea. I'll just see you in the morning."

And just like that, she had slipped inside the door, a resounding click echoing just slightly.

I found myself yawning as I did the combination on my locker. I'd had a weird dream, and it as one of those you don't just come fall back asleep after having. I mean, I'd never had a dream like that before – I mean, not where Helga was in it. I'd just been sitting on my couch before she'd burst through my door. She'd immediately started removing her clothing, and my dream self was starting to panic in more ways than one. It was when she'd shaken her hair down, turning to lock her blue eyes on me. I wasn't sure what the significance of her pink underwear with bunnies was, but I'd woken up feeling _awkward _for lack of a better word. I'd turned on the tv soon after to distract my mind, and I didn't know when I'd fallen asleep again.

"Like she'd even wear pink bunny underwear," I scolded myself as I rummaged in the mess for my chemistry homework.

"Who has pink underwear?"

"Ohmygosh," I squeaked, crying out as I slammed the back of my head against the roof of my locker. "I don't know! What? Who said underwear?" I stammered, rubbing the back of my head as I turned.

Helga peered at me curiously from behind her newly loose hair. Wait, she was wearing her hair down? My eyes flickered down involuntarily. Shoot, wait, I wasn't supposed to look at her that way. She wouldn't be wearing – oh my gosh, she was a pink bra. I could see the strap from where her bag had pulled the shoulder of her shirt down. I gulped loudly, quickly dropping my attention to the floor completely.

"Hey, you okay in there?" Helga asked, swinging her head around so she was once again in my line of vision. I stumbled backward into my locker, once again trying to refocus my attention. "I take it no…"

"I was just – I didn't get any sleep!" I blurted, my voice cracking like I was going through a second puberty or something.

"Yeah, I didn't either," she replied, picking at her fingernails. "It was probably all that sugar. I really shouldn't have that much at night because I'm practically an insomniac anyway and sugar really makes me laggy the day after. I had about three cups of coffee this morning."

She wasn't mobbing, she was just standing there as if she was oblivious to my discomfort. I guess I should have known I'd have to face her sooner or later. I was just hoping for later because I'm an awful coward sometimes. Okay, she's just Helga. She's the same Helga she's always been. It was just a dream, I reminded myself. A dream.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" I asked, snapping back to attention. I dared a glance down at her.

"Look, just forget it," she said with a roll of her eyes. She pulled the bag up on her shoulder, shifting her weight to her left leg. "I'll see you in class."

"No, wait, I'm sorry," I apologized, pushing through the other students as I attempted to follow her. "What were you saying?"

"If you really wanted to know, you would have listened to me the first time," she countered.

"I'm sorry. Tell me again. I'm listening."

"I_ said_ I get the results of my audition tonight at dance. I was wondering if you'd want to know my results," she said shyly, brushing her hair back over her ear. "I thought since you are just _so_ intent on being friends, and all."

"Oh yeah, sure. You can text me!" I grinned. "Did you tell me the show? I don't remember."

"It's _Cinderella,"_ she said with a shrug, pulling a pack of gum from her pocket. "Want a piece?"

I pulled a stick from the package, unwrapping it as I spoke. "Let me know as soon as you do."

Helga nodded, pushing past me to make her way down the aisle to her desk. I shook my head, sliding into my own desk.

"Morning Arnold!"

"Hi Lila!" I greeted, hastily trying to smooth my hair down a bit. She smiled radiantly as she took her seat across from me.

"Did you make your meeting yesterday?" she asked as she opened her binder.

"Barely. You have a good day off?"

"It was ever so relaxing! I read a wonderful book and had an ever so wonderful time trying out a new recipe with my daddy."

"That sounds great. You always were a wonderful cook," I complimented, hoping this was the right time to throw one in.

"Why thank you ever so much!" she said, her cheeks tinting an adorable shade of pink.

At that moment, Dr. Martin called for quiet, and I turned my attention to my work. I'd taken the blush as a signal I'd done something right.


	10. Jealousy

Hey guys! Back again. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it =)

I don't own Arnold, Olive Garden, or Applebee's. I do own David, though! ;)

a/n. Would anyone be interested in being my beta for this story? Mainly because my brain gets ahead of my fingers, and I have uncaught typos. I'm also looking for someone to help me get into a set posting schedule. I went through beta profiles, but didn't have luck finding someone to do just that. Let me know if you're interested, and we'll discuss.

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"**How did it go?"**

"**What part of 'I'll text you when I see it' wasn't clear?"**

"…**..I'm not a patient man."**

"**Obviously. Calm yourself, football head. I'll let you know after we get the list."**

"**So like right now then?"**

"**I'm going to ignore any more of your messages between now and then, fyi."**

"…**."**

I couldn't help by smile as I dropped my phone beside me on the couch. Overall, I'd had a rather fantastic day. I managed to slip in a few more compliments to Lila, and she even came over to me at lunch rather than the other way around. We only talked for a short bit, but I just knew that that had to mean something good. I mean, come on. She had to be thinking it was a mistake breaking it off with me before. At least, I hoped she was. I'd been applying my lessons throughout the day and I felt like I was making good progress.

I'd been in such a good mood when I got home and I wanted to share it with someone, so I'd taken to texting Helga so I'd have someone to talk to. I would have texted Gerald, but he was going out for dinner with his family and wasn't allowed to text when they did their 'family gatherings.' I wasn't sure if this had anything to do with his Dad's weird energy saving kicks or what, I'd sent Helga an open message, unsure as to whether she'd reply or not. She had, so I'd spent a good chunk of time bugging her as she got ready for dance and whatever else she was doing before then.

I rolled over, trying to get myself comfortable on the couch as I turned on the tv. I flipped through the channels, looking for something that could hold my attention. I actually didn't have any homework, which was a relief. Well I did have a paper due on Thursday, but I'd just work on that tomorrow. Or Wednesday. I paused as I saw a familiar cartoon character flicker across the screen. Who cares if I'm seventeen, I can still watch cartoons if I want to. I let the remote fall to the floor, settling back against the cushions.

About halfway into the episode, my phone buzzed beside me on the couch. I reached over, trying to find it without tearing my attention away from the television.

"**!"**

"**What? You got a good part?"**I punched in, my heart jumping for a second in excitement. It was a contagious feeling.

"**Yes!"**

"**Well which part?"**

"**Oh yeah. You really want me to tell you?"**

"**I thought that was the implied point of all these messages."**

"…**I got the lead!"**

"**No way! So you're Cinderella?"**

"**No, I'm Prince Charming…..of course I'm Cinderella!"**

"**We….should celebrate!"**

"**What, like right now?"**

"…**Yes."**

"**Um, maybe after rehearsal tonight…I'll get back to you afterwards."**

"**Awesome! Want me to pick you up?"**

I pressed send, glad she'd gotten the part. I knew what it was like to have a lead role (even if it hadn't really been my choice), and Helga seemed suited for the dramatics. She'd become a surprisingly good actress over the years. I'd seen her in a few shows that the drama club did, but she'd never had a lead in any of them. It was hard, though, to get a lead when Rhonda was involved. Not that Rhonda wasn't a good actress in her own right, but the fact that her dad donated most of the productions budget certainly didn't hurt her chances.

"**Whatever floats your boat."** I grabbed a piece of paper from the floor, scribbling the address she had texted to me. The place was actually located in the town over, which I thought was a bit strange. It would be about a twenty minute drive or more, so I grabbed my keys from where I tossed them onto the bed with my wallet. If she got done at six, I had thirty minutes to get there. I grabbed my over shirt from where I had dropped it by the door, shrugging my way into it. I figured I'd need the extra time to make sure I got the right place.

I stepped out of my truck, looking up at the large brick building. It was two stories, and the windows had large pink curtains in the front, tied back with big ribbons. In curly script on the windows was the name "Lucretia's" in a lighter blue color. I wasn't sure if I needed to go inside, or if I should just wait outside. There was a bench outside under one of the windows, so I plopped down on it, stretching my legs out in front of me. Luckily it was nice weather, so it wasn't much of an issue to have to sit and chill. I crossed my arms back behind my head, content to wait.

I didn't have to wait long, the loud voices of giggling girls suddenly erupting outside as the door burst open, releasing a string of long legged girls with buns and leotards out into the street. Helga was in the front of the pack laughing, but it seemed to catch in her throat when she saw me.

"You're here?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah, I thought that was the point of the address?" I asked, standing up and shrugging. "Was I wrong?"

"Usually Miriam forgets, even when she says she's coming," she muttered, shrugging as she directed her attention down to the sidewalk.

"There's a boy!" "A boy?" "It's a _cute_ boy, too!" The rest of the girls seemed to realize I wasn't a creeper just hanging outside the studio, and soon swarmed around Helga, who tried to squirm away uncomfortably. "Is this your boyfriend?" "Helga has a boyfriend?!" "What's his name?"

"Oh, leave Arnoldo alone!" Helga called above the mass, breaking free and making her way to my side. "This is just my friend, Arnold."

"See you later, Cinderella," came a male voice, and my head immediately went to the source of it. Exciting the building now was a boy my age or older, who had obviously taken time to put on some jeans and a t-shirt before roaming the streets, and I couldn't blame him. He was angular and lean with shaggy bangs and long hair that was pulled back at the nape of his neck. I wasn't much on judging guys on their looks, but I could see by the way the girl's attention shifted he was something special.

"Later, Prince Charming," Helga called back with a laugh, waving to the boy at the door. He winked in return, adjusting the duffel bag he was holding. He noticed me as he reached the sidewalk.

"Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is just Arnold," she said with a shrug, adding a playful punch to my arm for good measure. I wasn't sure I liked being referred to as 'just Arnold.'

"I'm David," the guy said with a grin, extending his hand to me. "Have you seen Helga dance? She's amazing!"

"Well I have been doing this for years," she teased. "I would hope I had gained some talent in that time."

"Oh come on," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just take my compliments. You are extremely talented, and beautiful to boot. I'll see you at the next rehearsal, m'lady." He gave a parting wave to both of us, making his way to the parking lot. The guy even had a motorcycle!

"What was up with that?" I asked a bit crisply as I jerked open the the truck door for Helga.

"Up with what?" she inquired, jumping up into the seat.

"With 'Prince Charming'," I replied, making air quotes with my fingers.

"Oh, you mean David. What, you thought we didn't have any guys in our group?" She snapped her seat-belt on, then pulled the pins from her hair, shaking her bun down. I had to immediately look away, my brain flickering back to my earlier dream. I clinched my fingers around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Best not to think about that at this moment. "So what are you doing for me in celebration?"

"Oh, uh, well, I suppose we can grab some food or something? We can get you a celebration cupcake!" I joked, thankful for the distraction for my mind. "I can take you somewhere nice, if you want?"

"How about we settle for something quick? I'm not really dressed to go anywhere nice."

"Well I can always take you home to change if you'd be more comfortable, but you look great just the way you are," I said with a shrug, daring a glance over.

"Oh, well, is there anything that counts as an in between?"

"You mean like an Olive Garden or Applebee's?" I asked curiously, those being the only restaurants I remembered having commercials that tried to make themselves look cheap and fancy all together.

"How about we just go to Gianos?" Helga replied with a laugh. "I prefer the non-chain places back in Hillwood."

"Then why do you take dance over here?" I asked, taking a moment to pause at the stop sign.

"Well, it's a bit easier to fit in in a place where people don't have some pre-existing idea of who you are. I mean, I took dance in Hillwood for a few years, but some of our classmates found out and teased me a lot. The girls in it knew me from school, and it was hard to really enjoy the dance aspect when everyone was scared of me. I moved over here when High School started. They didn't know about my background or anything, so it was easier to just be myself. I've made friends." She clapped a hand to her mouth, groaning as she slid down in the seat.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You can't tell anyone anything I just told you. I don't usually talk to people about it."

"I won't tell," I replied with a small laugh. "No one would believe me, anyway."

"That's why I don't tell people," she replied a bit huffily. "Everyone has some preconceived notion of what they think I should be interested in. I'm my own person, and I can be interested in whatever I want to be interested in."

"Of course you can. But I don't see why you let the kids at school keep the idea that your rough and tough instead of just being how you want to be."

"Part of me _is_ rough and tough. I don't mind my solitude at school. It doesn't bother me."

"Whatever you say Helga."

* * *

I plopped down on the bed, my eyes wide as I stared at the ceiling. We'd stopped at the place she'd requested, and I was surprised at how much fun I could have with a girl I'd once thought hated me. Or just any girl in general. She didn't order the salads that Lila always ordered, so I didn't feel guilty eating meat and tons of pasta. She had a great sense of humor, and the more I watched her laugh and enjoy herself, the more I wished we'd become friends earlier. I knew there had been moments throughout the years where we'd been forced into hanging out. Parties, projects, random meetings every now in then. In those moments, I tolerated Helga, but I'd never wanted to pursue a friendship. Frankly, she used to just rub me the wrong way. It made me wonder how much I had let my own biases get in the way. If we'd started down this path earlier, where would we be now?

I jumped as my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I touched the screen, seeing Lila's name light up the screen.

"Hope I didn't disturb you! I'm ever so sorry, but I seemed to have left my math book in my locker. If it's not 2 much trouble, I'd be ever so grateful if I can borrow yours?"

I glanced at the time. I was only a little past 8. I texted a message back, sliding off my bed and digging the book out of my backpack. I bounded down the stairs, yawning as rounded the corner. I saw the light in the kitchen was on, so I called, "Be back in a few Grandpa!"

I tucked the book under my arm, making my way down the sidewalk. I'd told Lila I'd just bring it over to her house. There really wasn't any need to make her walk when she didn't need too. When I arrived, she promptly answered the door.

"Thanks ever so much!" she cooed, and I caught my breath at the sight of her in her faded gown, with her hair falling softly over her shoulders. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but I just held out the book.

"No problem," I managed, smiling widely. She grinned in return, her fingers brushing against mine and she took the book from me. They were as warm and soft as I remembered, and I wanted more than ever to just touch her.

"I'd invite you in, but Daddy wouldn't like that with him asleep. He'd be ever so upset if he found out. Have a good night Arnold. I'm ever so fortunate to have a friend like you." She gave me a small wave, disappearing back behind the door.

Friends. I was just everyone's _friend _today, it seemed.


	11. A touch

Sorry, this chapter is very dialogue- filled, but it was fun to write. Hope you enjoy it! I'm having a blast writing this one..

Miroluv61 suggested a lesson on light physical interaction, so thanks for suggesting a lesson! This chapters for you! Anyone else want to suggest a lesson, feel free!

sadly, I do not own Arnold :/

* * *

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"It doesn't have to make sense!"

"Then how am I supposed to apply this? Why can't girls just associate one thing, with, well, that one thing instead of twenty! Why do they have to be so complicated?"

"Because _we're_ girls! _We _can be!"

"I know_ you're_ a girl," I retorted with same emphasis. "I mean other girls. So what if a guy 'accidentally' touches a girl's hand? What if it was legitly an accident and she spends the whole day looking for an explanation that's just not there!" I let my composition book fall to my lap, throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Look, you're the one who asked about it in the first place. That's why you need this lesson, because you obviously don't understand why this is important," Helga snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest. "So just shut up for all of my opening notes here. Hold your questions."

"Would you make David hold his questions?" I mumbled in sarcastic tone.

"Did I not just say hold your questions!?" She cried, throwing her head back in annoyance. "Do you want to hear my lesson on physical signals or not?"

I raised my eyebrows, staring at her with as much force as I could will my eyes to have. Which I instantly realized was stupid because this was not Star Wars, and I could not use the force.

"Well do you?"

"I thought we were holding all questions," I stated a bit smarmily. I threw my hands up as Helga began pelting me with the spare markers, my laugher only infuriating her all the more.

"Your questions, not mine, you buttface!" I brought my fist to my mouth to stifle my laughter, gesturing for her to continue with my free hand. She rolled her eyes, turning to write on the notepad.

"Lesson 4: Physical Signals," she read aloud as she wrote. "What to do to get a girl to think about you. So what touch counts in this? And what do they mean? Any thoughts?"

"I think this is a ridiculously convoluted lesson," I muttered.

"Well I think you're ridiculously convoluted. We're going to cover hand holding, shoulder touching, and hair touching. These are the main touches that will get a girl thinking there may be something behind them. Making sense here?"

"Um…Maybe?" I confessed with a shrug, still feeling clueless. I really didn't have any idea what the difference was between them.

"Okay, so let me show you," she offered, coming to plop down on the couch beside me. She jerked my book from hand, tossing it onto the floor. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing, so I awkwardly folding my hands on my lap, but that just wrong. I then shifted to drumming them on my knees. "So let's say I was this girl you're mooning over," she said, batting her eyelashes at me in an exaggerated manner. "And let's say we're just hanging out, chillin. We're having a grand old time and you want to give me a hint that you like me, but without saying anything. Begin!"

I adjusted my body so I was facing her at an angle. I couldn't suppress a chuckle as she made an overstated show of twirling her hair around one of her fingers, looking around the room like she was gazing at a room full of sweets or something. She looked so unlike Helga in that moment, I didn't know how to respond.

"Oh Ahnold," she piped up in an airy southern belle accent, "it was just eva so nice of you to invite me out ta'day. Tha whetha is just eva so nice ta'day, but it is just awful hot. Look at me ova here; I'm sweatin' like a sinna in church!"

I was doing well to keep my amusement in, but I finally just lost it, falling back against the cushions in a fit of laughter. And the way she turned to peer at me while still keeping up her airy façade made it all the worse, and I found myself clutching my sides as I gasped for air. "What are you even doing?" I managed to gasp.

"Why Ahnold," she said sweetly, bring her hand to her chest in a dainty way, "I just assumed it was my job to start some sort of conversation since you was just sittin' there like a bump on a log!"

I let out another chuckle. "What am I supposed to be doing anyway?"

"Why, I do believe you were tryin' to find a way to slip in one of those physical signals Helga was teachin' you." She turned away from me, daintily crossing her hands over her knees. I took a deep breath to compose myself, sitting back up and exhaling as I peered across the room like she was. I glanced down to where her hands where crossed over her knees. Okay, so there was no way I could go for her hands without that being obvious. I didn't want to just jerk her hands up. So that left me either the shoulder or the hair. After a bit more debating I finally took a deep breath, trying to get over the feeling that I was going to end up looking like a complete idiot no matter what it was I decided to do.

"Hey! Look over there!" I said in a mock chipper tone, nodding my head to the wall to our left.

"What? What are we lookin' at?" she said in her bright tone, making a large movement to bring her hand to shield her eyes as she peered around dramatically.

"Why are you doing that?" I blurted, covering my eyes with my hand as my mouth twitched with my more laughter.

"I figured you'll never be in a situation quite as awkward as this, so hop to it," she instructed in her normal voice, then quickly switching back to her airy tone to say, "Now where are we lookin'?"

"Why, over there!" I said with roll of my eyes, putting my hands on her shoulders to turn to her look at whatever it was I had chosen to look at. Now that my hands where there, I had no idea what to do with them. "I'm totally lost of to what to do now," I admitted sheepishly, and I could feel her shoulders shaking as she tried to keep in her laugher.

"You are hopeless," she said with a laugh, shrugging away from my hands. "You have to do something a bit memorable to make a girl remember a touch. You can let your hand linger just a little too long, or make your pull away extremely tender or gentle. Something to make a girl want you to touch her again. Then she'll remember it, and she'll remember you. Are we making sense?"

"I think I've got it," I replied, nodding my head. "So, it's all in the timing of the touch more than the actual touch itself?" I said, trying to make my thoughts make sense. I reached out to take her hand, pursing my lips for a moment. "So how do I know when it's been too long?"

"Maybe that's something that you have to feel in the moment. It's more so instinctual. When it's with that girl you like, I think you'll just know. That's how it works." She gently extracted her hand from mine, making her way back over to the notepad. She wrote in a few more of the things she had just told me, just a bit more condensed. I sighed, feeling like this was a lesson I'd never quite fully understand. "How about we focus on what goes through a girl's head? Wasn't that your original question?"

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. I was hoping she'd be able to help me decipher what Lila had been thinking about our brief finger brush last night, if anything. Maybe girls weren't the only ones to over analyze things, but I wasn't going to admit that. I coughed to myself, acting like I was diligently copying notes instead of just getting lost in my thoughts.

"So, usually a girls first main thought is 'Did he do that on purpose?'" she explained, writing the question on the paper. "If it's eventually decided that it could have been, the next immediate question is 'Does he like me?' Then, from this simple question spawns all the analyzing of a touch."

"Well, what if a girl touches you?"

"Well I punch her. Dare some other girl to try and get fresh with me."

I rolled my eyes. "I meant a guy. If a girl initiates this 'touch,'" I explained, trying not to seem obvious with my question. Hey eyes widened for a second as she registered the question, and she smirked as she seemed to think it through.

"Oh, okay. I see what you're asking." She brought her thumb to her mouth, chewing on her nail. "Well, I guess it works the same way. If I girl lets a touch linger a bit too long, or adds a touch when she really doesn't need to, then it's possible she likes you. Or she's testing the water to gauge how she feels about you."

"Gauge how she feels?" I inquired, tilting my head to the side. This was getting even more complicated than it already was – and that was saying something.

Helga sighed impatiently, shifting her weight to once leg as she placed her hand on her hip. "Goodness, you are so dense. You know, like with a kiss? You think you may like a person, but you don't know you actually like them or just think you do. So you go in for a kiss, and you wonder if fireworks are real?" Her eyes seemed to focus on something far off in space as she spoke, her entire body seeming to relax in that moment.

"Uh, Helga?" I asked softly, feeling a bit guilty about disrupting her moment. She shook her head violently, snapping back to attention.

"So basically, that, you know?" She capped the marker, making her way over to my desk. She placed the marker in the small cup I had full of pencils, then went about poking around my papers and things. "Hey, what's this stuff?" she asked, jerking open my drawer full of pictures.

"Just things!" I yelped, jumping up from the couch to dart over and slam it shut. Helga eyebrows shot up, a mischievous glint suddenly glinting in her blue eyes.

"Things,huh? What kind of things?" She pressed, pushing my hands aside as she made to open the drawer once more. Normally, pictures weren't that big of deal – except most of the pictures in the drawer were of me and Lila, and it was well know that Helga had some unknown reason for despising her. There may or may not have been some pictures of Gerald's 16th birthday that had gotten a little awkward, but there was most definitely some of my horrendous post-breakup notes I had written to Lila and never had the nerve to hand over. I misinterpreted her strength, and she misinterpreted mine and I took her arms a swung her away from the desk.

"Oh come on, I'm just – whoa!" she cried as she stumbled backward of the pile of markers I had deflected earlier. Her eyes widened as she feel backward, and an strangled cry came from my throat as I found myself falling with her. I immediately released her arms, moving them to wrap them around her head to protect her head from the floor and whatever items were littered across the floor in front of my closet. I jolt shot up my arms as the floor connected with my elbows, and I sucked in a gulp of breath in an attempt to keep the harsh words in my mouth.

"You okay?" I muttered, Struggling to extract myself from the tangle we'd become.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Get off," Helga was mumbling, wriggling beneath me. I pulled her up into a sitting position as I rocked back on my knees. "I just knocked my head on something," she said with a grimace as she fingered the back of her head.

"Here, let me see." I leaned forward, gently moving her head forward while running my fingers over the back of her head. "I don't feel any bumps," I sighed in relief. "I think you probably felt my head, I was trying to protect your head from actually hitting anything important."

"You mean like your hand?"

"Well, it's alright, I don't really need it?" I joked, flexing my fingers experimentally. My hand was throbbing slightly, but I felt it would pass.

"Sorry about that. Oh snap, I think you have a cut on it," she groaned, tugging my hand toward her. I shrugged as she inspected it, seeming content to find that although I had a smear of blood on the back of my hand, the cut itself was relatively small. She ran her thumb over the area, sending a weird sensation through my hand. I figured the cut must be a little sensitive. "That hurt?" she asked, concern on her face as she peered up at me. I shook my head no. She deviated from just rubbing her thumb over my cut to absentmindedly rubbing her thumb across the rest of my hand. I felt as though I should pull my hand away, but she seemed so lost in thought I hated to break it. I cleared my throat instead. Helga dropped my hand immediately, jumping up from the floor.

"Well, that's pretty much it for today's lesson. Put it into practice or something, I don't know. Sorry about making you trip," she rushed, running over to the door and collecting her backpack.

"You okay?" I asked, scrambling up to follow her.

"I just see you later," she mumbled, slamming my bedroom door shut behind her.

I peered down at the cut on my hand, briefly wondering if we'd already practiced the lesson or not.


	12. Boyfriend

Thanks again for all these great comments. I've got most the entire story planned out by this point, so let's keep on truckin! I've been delving into research tips for this story (which means I have to search for dating tips…), so I'm still open to take requests from you guys. (please, it's super helpful)

I don't own Hey Arnold. Sadly. Though David is my own creation.

a/n: So so so so sorry you guys about all the horrendous spelling errors in this chapter. I posted it at close to two in the morning, so my brain didn't catch all (or should I say any of) my mistakes. So a few minor edits have been added since the initial posting.

* * *

"And then- and then," Helga laughed, trying to catch her breath as she continued her story. "The guys just completely- oh, hold on," she muttered, putting her coffee down as she rummaged down in her bag to find the phone that was blaring a song I wasn't familiar with. I sipped on my own frozen drink as she pressed a button. "Hello?"

I waited patiently, trying not to eavesdrop as I peered around the small little coffee shop. We'd decided to stop by after school instead of going straight to our lessons. It was a habit we'd fallen into over the last few lessons over the past two weeks. Since our physical interaction lesson, the lessons had taken on a more formal tone. It had been my idea to suggest doing something to unwind beforehand, which was fun and seemed to help Helga relax a bit. I'd since learned lessons on gentlemanly manners (which I already knew), What things I am supposed to share about myself, and a random lecture disguised as a lesson about not checking other girls out when you're with said object of your affection. I hadn't really thought through the fact Helga might not like that I shared how particularly attractive the girl who was on the TV was. Oops.

"Oh, snap! I can't believe I forgot, I've just been a bit buzzed these past few days. I'll see you in like, thirty minutes okay? Shoot shoot shoot," Helga was moaning as I turned my attention back to her. She tossed the phone down in her bag.

"Something wrong?" I asked curiously, watching as she jumped down from her stool, slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulders. She jerked up a metal napkin holder, checking her reflection before starting to rub at a small smudge near her eye.

"I totally forgot we scheduled an extra dance practice today. David called to remind me. Luckily he called me with enough time to spare to get there. He keeps me on track when I forget. Um, we'll do two lessons next time or we'll do one this weekend. Ugh, I'm so behind this week!" She picked her coffee, power walking toward the door.

"You need a ride or something?" I asked, hopping down from my own stool and following after her. I put on an extra burst of speed to make sure I could hold open the door for her.

"It's fine, I'll take the bus. I've got to run home and get my slippers."

"Come on, the bus is going to stop closest to the boarding house first. I'll drive you to your house from there, and then you won't have to worry about all the extra stops and all the bus takes." Plus, I wanted to talk a bit more. The conversation had cut off rather abruptly.

"Well hurry then!" she called, dashing toward the bus that had just stopped at the corner. I dashed behind her, flashing my bus pass before being herded into the center of the bus by Helga.

"Rushing to a seat won't make the bus move faster," I reminded her a bit smartly. She ignored me, tapping her foot impatiently as she peered out the window. I rolled my eyes, already knowing I wouldn't get much out of her until she was sure she was going to get there on time. When the bus pulled up at the stop near home, she burst from the seat like a bolt of lightning. I stumbled to keep up with her pace, rounding the corner to find her already climbing into the cab of the track. I frowned, wrestling my own door open. I pulled my keys from my pocket, flipping to the right one and jamming it in. The ride went in relative silence aside from her various nervous groans. I left the truck running at the curb as she dashed inside her own home. She returned a minute or two later, her bag on her shoulder and her slippers on the other. When she jumped back in the cab, her shoes swung out and knocked me on the arm.

"Dang, why are your slippers so hard?" I asked, not taking time to rub it or anything, instead just going forward. I noticed a slight bit of chalky substance on my arm as well.

"Wooden toes," she explained as she wrestled off her heavy combat boots. "Do you have a blanket or anything in here?" she huffed.

"Check behind the seat," I suggested, scooting to the side as she leaned around the seat. After a few clanking moments, she pulled out the dusty woolen blanket that I'd shoved back there for that camping trip Gerald and I had taken a few months back. After a moment of eyeing it with distaste, she sighed.

"I'm going to change. Don't look."

Okay, so the very instant a girl tells you she's about to change, the first instinct is automatically to look. "Wasn't gonna," I managed, gripping the steering wheel harder. "Why didn't you change at home?"

"Saves time. I'll get there sooner. Don't mind me," she mumbled, pulling a pair of tights and a leotard from her bag. She tossed the blanket over her, turning her back to me in the seat. To say I didn't glance over a few times would be a lie, but I only caught glimpses of a bit of her arm shooting out from the side to toss her baggy shirt away. I turned the radio up, trying to let the blaring music distract my mind. A few moments later, her head popped out from the blanket. She searched in her bag once more, pulling out a comb and going to work on her now loose and tangled hair. I figured this seemed like a whole lot of work just to go dance. But I kept my mouth shut as she fought out the knots, eventually getting the blond mass into a surprisingly smooth bun.

"Is it really necessary to do all of that? You couldn't do it there?"

"Ms. Anissa likes us to be in our dance attire when we get there. She gets an attitude if she has to wait on you. Since it's just David and I today, I wouldn't be able to escape it," she explained, packing her other clothing articles into the bag.

"Wait, this rehearsal is just for you two?" I blurted, confused.

"Yeah. We're going to work on choreographing the ballroom dance. Rather than make all the other dancers wait around while she works with us, she just scheduled a few extra rehearsals for doing the ballroom scenes that are just us."

"Oh," I muttered, keeping my mouth shut the rest of the drive. Helga talked, not seeming to notice my distaste as she tied on her slippers. When we finally arrived, she pointed to the front.

"Thanks for the drive. Just drop me off at the front, if you want," she instructed.

"Can I stay and watch?" I tried to ask casually. "I mean, that way you can just ride back with me. That way I can justify my gas usage. You know," I shrugged, daring a glance over.

"Oh, um, I'm not sure. Usually we aren't supposed to, but I'm sure if I tell her you're my ride, she'll understand. It's not dress rehearsal or anything," she mused, seeming to think it over. With a shrug, she stepped out from the truck, leaving her bag in the floorboard. I turned off the truck, stepping down as well. Helga took a moment to adjust her leotard, her cheeks a bit red. "Come on then."

I nodded, following behind her. It was still a shock to see her in a form fitting leotard and neat hair, though the abundance of pink had a familiar air about it. The lobby area was empty when we entered, but she directed me to a door to the right. She pushed it open, and the first sight for me to behold was a man in tights. Whenever you mention a guy wearing tights, most guys' minds automatically flickers to someone that looks extremely feminine and funny. It's supposed to be something to laugh at. Yet we have mister prince charming himself in tights and slippers that didn't even dock his masculinity down a single notch. The corners of my lips twitched. How was that even fair? How was a guy allowed to look that good, and in tights nonetheless.

"'Ello Helga!" called a woman messing with a tape player in the corner. Her brow furrowed as she saw me. "Who is this?"

"This is my friend Arnold. He's my ride, and I was wondering if was alright for him to sit through the practice? It's about a thirty minute drive, so I'd hate to make him waste gas like that. He doesn't know the town, so I was hoping it would be alright…"

The woman's face brightened. "Ah, yes, that'll be alright. Young man, take a seat in one of the seats over there. I just ask if you have a cell phone to turn it to the silent mode. You may watch, but I do not tolerate interruptions."

I nodded. I could understand why Helga wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I made my way over to the seat, plopping down. David was stretching at a bar beside me, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't. How was he even able to stretch his leg like that?

"I've been doing this since I was seven," he explained, as if he could read my mind. He moved back, doing what appeared to be a toe touch, even though he was placing his palms flat against the floor.

"Oh wow," was all I could manage. I had no idea what to say to him. "Mom force you?"

"Actually no, but you would think," he laughed. "My grandma was a dancer. She got to do touring shows, and even worked in Vegas. She had all these costumes and pictures of her performances. She even had a couple of videos. I used to watch them all the time. There were these guys that could do all these awesome tap dance routines and even ballet. I just felt that was what I wanted to do. I do tap as well. Gene Kelly is my idol. " He shrugged, straightening up and brushing his bangs back from his face.

This guy just did everything it seemed. "Well, seems like you are just oozing with talent," I said lamely. He laughed in reply, shaking his head.

"Not really. I tried football in middle school after being teased by a bunch of the boys. Sucked at it. I could dodge and all, but butterfingers." He wiggled his fingers to prove a point. I tried to keep in my groan. He had to be nice, didn't he? I didn't want to like him, but there didn't seem to be a jerkish bone in his body.

"Come on Charming, stop chatting and get to dancing!" Helga called from the center of the room. David laughed, making his way over as well.

"Now, let's begin," Mrs. Anissa said, clapping her hands sharply. I wish I was able to explain the process of a dance rehearsal, but it's hard for someone who has no idea what any of the terms mean. All I know is I sat for two hours watching Helga and David spin around the room and do a series of dance movements I had never thought even possibly. But then again, I was no expert in ballet at all. I watched David as Charming certainly live up to his character, his hand resting on her hip as he guided her around the room. I hadn't realized my hands had clenched into tight fists, so when Mrs. Anissa called an end to the rehearsal, I was massaging the numbness from my joints and knuckles. So maybe I was a bit jealous about how easily he was able to dance like that with her, but I figured if I had taken dance for ten years, I'd be almost as good.

"I said you ready to go?"

I jerked my head up to see Helga raising her eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Ready to go?"

"Oh yeah, sure," I replied, pushing myself up from the chair. I was anxious to get out of this studio.

"You guys want to get some food? I can get us a discount," David asked, walking over to where we were. "My parent's own a restaurant," David clarified for me; I was obviously the only one in the room who wasn't privy to all these dancer secrets.

"I have homework to get to, and it's a long drive," I declined carefully, trying to not make it obvious how much I was disliking the idea. "And I'm giving Helga a ride, so-"

"I can take the bus, no big deal. I'm totally starved. Your dad makes a mean hamburger. "

"But you-" I started to protest, only to be shut down once more.

"I can get my bag from your truck later. I don't know what time I'll get back, so if you'll just stash the key somewhere for me, I'll get it."

I wanted to tell her she could just ride with me and there wouldn't be any complication, but I sighed instead. "Um, sure. I'll just leave it under the back mat. I'll probably be up when you get there, so just text me or something," I muttered.

"Sure you don't want to get anything to eat with us? You wouldn't need to stay too long," David suggested again.

"It's fine, really. Thank for the invite. I've got stuff to do," I assured him. Not really in the mood to be the third wheel here.

"Come on bun head, I've got my extra helmet with me," David joked, pushing open the door, holding it for Helga.

"Hey, thanks for the ride," Helga said, waving to me as she walked out. "I'll bring you something back. I mean, it'll be cold, but I'll bring something anyway."

"Sure thing," I nodded, waving at the door as it closed. This was not what I had been expecting for today. If I'd gotten anything from today, I think I had a bit more insight on the last lesson we'd had. I groaned, pushing open the door. This was going to be a long, lonely drive back home.

I wrestled the door to my truck open, surprised to feel a tap on my back. I turned to find Helga standing behind me, and I smiled widely. Maybe she had changed her mind.

"I need to get my messenger bag," she explained, jumping up to reach across the seat to snag the strap. "I'll get my duffel later. You positive you can't stay and eat with us?"

"I'm fine, really. Grandma is probably already expecting me for supper. You guys have fun," I said lamely.

"Sorry about making you wait for nothing. I didn't think about it when I agreed to get something to eat," she suddenly realized, her face falling. "I'll go tell him I can't."

"No, don't worry about it. Honestly. No big deal." As tempting as it was, I figured as long as she was happy and out of the house, I could be fine with it.

"Thanks for understanding. Later!" she bounded off around the truck, and I watched as she jumped on the bike behind him. He adjusted her chin strap for her, and she was soon latched tightly around his waist as the pulled out of the parking lot. I was already sick of this guy, and he hadn't done a thing to me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"Yah, it's 1 through 30, odd numbers," I confirmed to Lila on the phone. I was trying to wash dishes at the same time, so occasionally parts of our conversation were being drowned out due to the speaker.

"These problems are just ever so hard," she whined a bit pitifully. "I'm just ever so certain I'm doing these wrong."

"A good bit of them are just using the quadratic formula," I explained, pulling the stopper from the sink.

"I'm ever so certain I'm just not getting it. Oh Arnold, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd be willing to come help me out."

"Um, well, I'm sort of expecting Helga to drop by. She's left some stuff in my truck and when she finishes eating with David-"

"Oh, isn't he that ever so cute boyfriend of hers from out of town?...Arnold, are you there?"

"What? Oh, uh, yeah. What do you mean boyfriend?" I choked out, not caring if my hands where sudsy as I put the receiver to my ear now.

"Oh yes, she has a few pictures of him on her binder. Rhonda asked her who he was and things like that. Helga got ever so flustered, and Rhonda says they must be dating or she wouldn't have acted so."

"Isn't it possible they're just friends? I mean, how would you know?" I babbled quickly.

"Oh, I'm ever so certain I don't know for sure. But I do know the last time Rhonda had a slumber party, the two were texting all night. I'm ever so certain that would have to mean _something._"

"Look, um, give me a minute to finish cleaning the kitchen. I'll be over in a few."

I pressed the end button, a tingling sensation running up my spine. He was Helga's boyfriend? She didn't mention anything about it? But would she have? I mean, did she not think I needed to know she had a super fit, handsome dancer boyfriend whose parents owned some stupid restaurant? Maybe that's why she didn't want to get too attached or hang out a lot; she didn't want to interfere with this David time. Like I had any reason to worry about it. It's not like the sudden discovery she may or may not have a boyfriend affected our lessons. Maybe it just made her lessons more accurate, and she was teaching me things he'd done for her. I shut my mind down at that point, darting out the back door.


	13. Questions

Hey guys! To start off this section, I'm making a shout-out to "Aliens ate my Brains." I was going to pm you, but I wasn't able. I wanted to thank you for such and inspiring review, and I am honored you think so highly of my writing! Thanks for that boost to my confidence!

Secondly, I know a lot of my reviews are about how dense Arnold is... Come on guys, I know he's dense. He was able to brush off Helga as Cecile, her confession, her being on his fire escape, and so much more. Need I say more guys?

Alright, Arnold is not my creation. Sadly.

* * *

"So you see, it's relatively simple when you break it down into smaller portions. If you just stare at the set up too long, it does starts to look like it's just too much to solve," I explained, correcting Lila's mistakes as I looked over her homework. She sat at the table beside me, her bottom lip sticking out in an adorable little pout that made my insides melt.

"You're make it look ever so easy," she sighed, brushing her dark hair back behind her ear. "I think I need a break. We should make a snack! I'm ever so hungry, now that I think about it," Lila suggested, turning to smile brightly at me. I had eaten a large meal only twenty minutes ago, but I couldn't say no to her face.

"Sure, like what?"

"Oh, I don't know! I'm ever so certain I can mix up some cookies in no time if you want. I can wrap some up for you take home, even!" She pushed her chair back, taking a moment to straighten the papers on the table. "It won't take long, I've memorized the recipe."

"Let me help," I laughed, following her into the kitchen. Her dad had given her free reign to decorate, and it looked like one of those country kitchens you see in magazines – but done thrifty style.

"The flour and sugar are in those tins on the fridge," she instructed, pointing. "And if you'd get the butter for me as well, that'd be ever so helpful."

I nodded, and we split directions to gather all the materials. I placed the tins over on the counter next to her mixer, where she was already setting up her little army of spices. I measured out the amount she instructed for me, and she went to work mixing the sugars and butter together. I was struck by the memory of us baking once before, and I smiled. It was nice to do things like this. I had always known Lila liked to cook, but I'd never really suggested we do it together-mainly because I didn't know how to cook anything. Maybe if that was something I'd suggested more of when we were dating, I wouldn't be trying to win her back now.

"Alright, add the flour in ever so slowly. A little bit at a time," she said, breaking me from my thoughts. I hesitantly shook a little from my measuring cup into the bowl. Lila giggled from beside me. "A little bit more than that, Arnold." I watched as the beaters pummeled what was already in the bowl in seconds, so I assumed I might as well add the entire cup. I tipped it up, Lila's "I'm ever so certain that's _too _much!" coming just a little too late. The cloud of flour caused both of us to throw our arms up in front of our face as it exploded from the bowl.

"I'll clean it up!" I offered immediately, shaking the front of my shirt out. Lila was doing the same, her face covered in the stuff. I could only imagine I looked the same, though not half as cute as she did, her wide eyes blinking.

"It's just flour, I'm ever so certain it's easy to get up," she said, her mouth twitching as she looked at me. A few giggles escaped as she made her way to the sink, pulling a washcloth out from the drawer nearby. She ran water over the edge of it, gesturing for me to come over. "I'm ever so certain half a cup is the right amount to add each time," she said softly, gently dabbing at my face with rag. It was almost like I could hear Helga's voice yelling in my head. Lesson 3, 4 and 5 all together! Complimenting, physical interaction and gentleman manners. Right. I could do this.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up first. Then I could clean up the floor and the counter while you add the rest of the flour. You're way better than I am at this, and I'd hate to ruin your awesome cookies. I'm sure you can save my mistakes," I said, hoping my voice wasn't sounding as shaky as I felt. I gently took the cloth from her hand, adding a bit more water and setting to work to get the flour off her face. Hands, shoulders, and hair where the key places to remember. And I had a perfect excuse to use the hair touch, what with the flour sticking to the bit surrounding her face. Okay Arnold, you can do this. Just be casual and cool. I decided to just go for it, using my hand not holding the cloth to run my fingers through her hair, gently shaking the flour that was loosely hanging on away. For a brief moment, her eyes flickered up to mine. Helga was right; you do know what time to let your touch linger for the brief moment. Then I chickened out, because how long it just _too _long? I pulled my hand away, gesturing awkwardly to the floor. "Let me just clean this up," I muttered softly, crouching down wipe off the flour from the floor.

"Oh, right," she muttered in response, stepping back and refocusing her attention onto the cookies. She was putting the little mounds onto a try by the time I had managed to get all the flour off of the floor and the counter. I'd had to go back with another rag to dry up the water I'd left behind. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to find I had a text message. I opened it to find a short message from Helga.

"**You should get your butt outside. I brought you some food."**

"**Sorry, can't. I'm not home right now."**

"**It's a school night, don't tell me you're actually out doing something."**

"**Well it is school related." **I figured I wasn't lying by saying that.

"…**?"**

"**I'm helping Lila do math homework." **I didn't think I needed to add in the part about making cookies.

"**Oh, so when you said homework earlier, you really meant you had to do little miss Mary Sue?"**

"**What? No. It was a last minute thing."**

"**Whatever. I got my bag."**

"**Are you upset with me over it?"**

"**Why would I be upset you're with her? It's a free country, bucko. We can hang out with whoever the frick we feel like. Criminy."**

So we could, it seemed. I looked up from my phone to find Lila scrubbing at dishes in the sink.

"Oh, I can get those. Sorry, it was just Helga," I groaned, starting to dry the dishes she had stacked.

"Oh it's alright. Things okay? You look ever so upset," she asked, her brows furrowing.

"She got a little upset I wasn't there when she went to pick up her stuff," I said, frowning. "But to be fair, she never did tell me when she was going to be there."

"Well I'm ever so sure it'll be alright. Sometimes Helga can be a bit rough, but she's nice. Sometimes." She rinsed the suds from her hands, drying them on a cloth. "Are you two friends now?" She said the word 'friends' as though it didn't feel right coming out, screwing her face up.

"Well, yeah. She's been helping me this past month with an important project."

"Oh, what kind of project?"

"Um, a social experiment?" I said awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'll let you know how it turns out."

"Oh, I'm ever so curious about it," she laughed, walking over to the oven to check the trays. She grabbed an over mitt from nearby, setting the two trays out on the stove top. "Would you grab one of those plates?"

"On it," I replied, setting the plate down next to the trays. She moved some of the cookies onto the plate, and then used her spatula to make sure none of the others had stuck.

"Thanks ever so much for helping with the math problems. Take the plate with you," she said with a smile, pressing the plate in my hands.

"Just call if you have any more questions," I replied, my heart pounding. "Now that you know the process, you should get it in no time."

"Thanks ever so much to your great tutoring," she said sincerely, opening the door for me since my hands where full. She waved to me as I reached the sidewalk, closing the door.

"Where'd you get the cookies, Shortman?" Grandpa asked as I set the plate down on the table in the kitchen. He immediately picked one up, not waiting for an answer.

"Lila baked them for me after I helped her with her math homework," I explained, picking one up for myself. "Grandpa, what do you do when you want to have a girlfriend and a girl that's a friend? Is that possible if they both hate each other?"

"Are you talking about the one with boots? She your girlfriend?"

"No, grandpa, she's just my friend! But I don't know if she'll still be my friend if I start dating the girl I like," I confessed.

"So, can't she just be both? Then everyone's happy!"

"Grandpa!"

"Alright, alright! It's just a situation where you have to figure out which is more important. Having her as a friend, or having this other girl as a girlfriend?"

"But the only reason we're friends now is because she's helping me get the other girl to be my girlfriend!"

Grandpa looked at me like I was a lunatic. "So the one with the boots, who is your friend, is helping you get a girlfriend, which is the girl she hates? And how would she not be okay with you dating the other girl?"

"Because I didn't tell her it as the girl she hated," I groaned, sinking down farther in the kitchen chair. I shoved another cookie in my mouth. "Can I have both?"

"Listen here Shortman. With women, it's always going to come down to making a decision. Male nature is going to put you liking one over the other. Best to figure that out in advance, so you don't get put in a situation where you have to decide on the spot. Cause that's when someone gets hurt, do you hear?" He pointed ferociously, cookie crumbs spewing from his mouth. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my office."

I sighed, covering my face with my hands. I really hadn't bargained for this. Taking one more cookie, I trudged up the stairs sluggishly. I figured if anything I just need to get some sleep. I plugged my phone in the charger, realizing I hadn't responded to Helga's earlier message. I felt like I should say something, but I had no idea what that might be. My calendar on the wall caught my attention, and I remember that this month would be ending soon. I flipped it up, my mouth twisting as I remembered the whole point of this lesson thing. I had about a month more of lessons with Helga left until her beeper banquet. Her show was the weekend after, so it seemed even up until that point I wouldn't be able to escape her and David together. Like it was even my business. So I was just nosy. Friends were nosy sometimes, right? Gerald was super nosy. He'd been on my case almost every day at school about spending so much time with Helga and the more I tried to explain it was just for the getting advice on Lila, the more he reminded me that spending more time with Helga meant less with Lila. He didn't approve of either, but I could tell he'd obviously pick Lila over Helga if I had to. I'd told her I wouldn't just vanish after our lessons ended, but if she was the one who dropped me, then what?

I shook my head furiously. My thoughts were just swirling back to Helga all the time. I let the page fall back down, plodding back over to the bed. I stripped off my shirt, tossing it over toward the sofa. It fell a bit short of landing where I wanted it, but I didn't feel like going to pick it up right now. I sat down on the bed, undoing the laces of my sneakers, kicking them off and peeling off my socks as well. I supposed I could take a shower. Maybe that would help me sleep. I pulled a pair of flannel pants from my dresser, tossing them over my shoulder. The bag with my toothbrush and whatnot was on the dresser where it usually is, so I grabbed it as well and headed toward the door. My mouth dropped when I opened the door to find Helga poised with her fist up as though she were about to knock.

"What, you don't know how to answer your text messages?" she floundered, her eyes trying to lock on anything other than me.

"No, I just- how'd you even know I was home?" I fumbled.

"So maybe I was on Facebook, and maybe Lila had updated a status about how she was going to sleep – not that she's on my friends list, Rhonda is and commented on her status and it kinda showed up on my dash- so I kinda assumed you'd be back home, but then you weren't answering messages or anything. Basically, I've been carrying this stupid take-out plate around my house, and If I put it in the fridge, Bob will probably eat it in the middle of the night. So just take it." She pressed a Styrofoam box into free hand, looking down at the floor.

I blinked, flipping the lid open. "Oh wow," I said quietly. "You brought me macaroni….with little bowties." The corner of my mouth twitched up.

"Yeah, well, I remember that one time you said you had that phase in middle school well whenever you were upset about something, your grandma would you make you bowtie macaroni, and you felt better. I figured I'd kind of upset you by pulling a ditch, so I asked Mr. Jonnes to make it for me special."

"You didn't have to do that," I assured her, smiling. "Thanks, though. That's…that's awesome." I felt like I should have had better words to say, but I fell flat. I kind of felt like a jerk now for being so upset about David earlier.

"No big deal, just some stupid macaroni," she said, sort of bouncing on her heels and still not looking at me. I rolled my eyes, dumping my clothes and bag on the floor, putting my good down carefully on it. Helga had given me a hug when I'd given her a gift, and I felt that this was just as big a gesture to me as my gift had been to her.

"Come on," I laughed, reaching out and pulling her into arms. An odd noise seemed to squeak out, and for a moment she seemed to go limp. Then she awkwardly patted me on the back, her hands making loud noises as they made contact against my skin.

"I, uh, need to get home," she said, her expressions a bit spacey. Her foot missed the top step as she tried to back down, but she caught herself and her expression immediately shifted back to one of anger. "I'll just see you at school, or something."

"Okay,sure," I muttered, clamping down my mouth to keep in all my sudden questions I wanted to ask. I still hadn't answered my own, so I guess I could wait to get her to answer my others. I shook my head, gathering back up my materials and heading toward the bathroom. It had certainly been a day.


	14. Accident

I finally found myself a beta, though this chapter I corrected myself - which hen makes me want to go change entire chunks. Ugh. But, this one of my favorite chapters I've written for this story so far...Enjoy, guys =)

Thanks for helping me get to 100 reviews, yay!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold..awww.

* * *

"So, what is it you want to do with your life? Your goals?" Helga asked, leaning a bit more to the right to give her a better angle to get maximum skipping distance with her rock over the water.

"Oh wow, that's a toughie," I replied searching for my own rock in the sand. My hair was sticking to my forehead, and it was starting to feel weird as it was attempting to dry against my head. I really hadn't expected to see Helga this weekend, it had just sort of happened. Word had gotten around (from Rhonda no less) that this weekend was going to be one of the first 'totally awesome beach weather weekend of the spring' and she had casually dropped the hint that a bunch of us should spend the day at her beach house on Saturday. Gerald had made sure I agreed to go, since he had heard from a reliable source that Phoebe was definitely going to be there. I agreed readily, my guilt about not talking to him as much lately kicking into hyper drive. I'd texted Lila to see if she was interested in taking up the Saturday beach excursion, but she reminded me that Saturday mornings were always her house cleaning mornings. I had forgotten. To say I had been surprised to see Helga laughing on the balcony railing as we unloaded from Gerald's car was an understatement. We were unloading the cooler as Rhonda was barking out instructions, telling the girls they were free to stay the night with her; we boys didn't have to leave when night hit, but we couldn't sleep over. Not long after everything was established, all my hormone filled brethren chased after their bikini clad interests. In my case, Gerald had gone off with Phoebe, which had left Helga and I both to ourselves. So here we were.

"You gonna answer?" she pressed, kicking water toward me to break me from my thoughts.

"I don't know," I replied honestly, shielding my face. "I guess I just want to be happy. Happy is a goal, right? I mean, I guess seeing my parents again would be a goal. That'd be…well, that'd be great," I said a bit sadly, giving a halfhearted throw to the rock I had found. It skipped pitifully.

"You could always go search for them, you know," I heard her say quietly from beside me. "You're almost out of school, almost eighteen. You could do it."

"You don't understand," I mumbled, my tone a bit harsher than I intended it to be. I'd spent years of my childhood stressing over the real definition of could. Sure, I_ could, _in theory, hijack a plane and fly over to some country I knew nothing about and hope on a whim I'd find them. But the reality is I didn't have the money or the resources, and I'd spent many days wondering if this wasn't best left at being my personal Schrödinger's Cat experiment.

"People find their parents all the time, Arnold. I mean, with technology and all, you've just got to know a few names and dates and-"

"You, what about you?" I interrupted, chucking another rock into the water. "Your goals."

Luckily Helga knew when to let things go, and I was grateful she easily shifted to "I just want to make an impact, maybe with writing or something, you know? I want everyone to know Helga G. Pataki as someone to be admired. Not just in Hillwood, but everywhere. So all those other little girls with jerkwad parents and perfect sisters and judging classmates can have someone to make them feel like they can get away," she blurted out, chucking another rock as forcefully as mine had been. "I want to be remembered for years and years to come, even after I've gone." She threw her shoulder back proudly as she looked out across the water. A strong gust of wind come from nowhere, making her over-sized t-shirt whip around her body dramatically. She let out a laugh, putting her hands on her hips and she turned around. "I'm just going to be a superhero." With a sigh, she plopped down in the sand.

I laughed as I sat down beside her, stretching my legs out so the tide could splash over my feet. I wasn't sure how we had started this question game about twenty minutes ago, but I knew what my next question was going to be. Just had to make it seem like we could both answer it, and like I wasn't trying to be super nosy. I took a slight breath, asking, "So, have anyone you're interested in? I mean, you obviously know I do or we wouldn't be in this agreement of ours," I shrugged, hoping it came off as casual.

Her cheeks flared a red color bright enough to battle the sunset over the water. "Why, what's it to ya?"

"Just curious?" I replied, running my hand through my hair to break up the sweaty bits on my forehead. "I just wanted to know if you're lessons were from personal experience or not."

"I…well, yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean, there is a guy I've been interested in for some time now, but he certainly didn't teach me my lessons. I picked those up on my own."

"From your romance novels?" I blurted without thinking.

"Hey, hey,hey!" Helga squealed, reaching out to deal me a punch to the arm. "You can learn some good ideas from them, what of it?"

"I was just asking," I laughed, trying to shield my upper body from her blows. "So who is it? Do I know him?" I pressed, trying to narrow it down. I had a feeling she was already going to say she liked David, but I was being masochistic and just needed to hear it said.

"Like I would tell you," she retorted, brushing her bangs back from her face. "It's not like it's going to work out. I know he's too oblivious to even notice." She crossed her arms, falling back in the sand.

"Look," I said quietly, following her example and lying down in the sand. "I think he might feel the same way. As I guy, I pick up on certain things-" She interrupted me with a sarcastic laugh. "Okay, so sometimes I don't. But you could just bring it up. You've known each other long enough, I'd think. I think he more than likely feels the same way."

"Really? Honestly?" she jerked into a sitting position, clutching her hands to the tiny golden locket she always wore on her neck. "I mean, I was kind of hoping, but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I was afraid you'd just get freaked out about it." She smiled one of the most joyous smiles I'd even seen on her face, adjusting her body to face me as I sat up.

"Of course I wouldn't. You can talk to me about that stuff. That's what friends are for, you know. To talk about these things." I reached out give her hand a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes flickered to mine for a moment, before she looked away.

"This is just going to make things so much easier now," she said in a breathless tone. "When did you pick up on it? I mean, I've been really good at hiding it all this time because I was just so scared."

I started to feel a bit discouraged at her euphoric attitude, but I smiled on. "A few days ago, actually. I mean, when I saw you guys dancing, I figured you liked him and-"

"Excuse me, what?" she interrupted suddenly, looking at me like I'd suddenly turned into a giant octopus or something just as strange.

"Well, I guess you wouldn't have noticed me watching you guys. David's really nice," I admitted, shrugging.

"Oh yeah, David is great," she replied, shifting her body away from me and peering out over the water. "I'm going back to the house," she said suddenly, pushing herself up and brushing the sand from her legs.

"Did I say something?" I asked curiously, not sure what I had done.

"Oh, just a little upset with myself. Just so transparent, ya know?" she said, and I wasn't sure if it was sarcasm or not as she walked down the beach.

"Hey, wait up!" I called, scrambling up in the sand. I stumbled a moment, but soon got enough balance to jog after her. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" she called back, and I could hear her laughter as she waved her hand back at me.

"Oh. Okay," I called back, furrowing my brows as I continued to catch up. But I soon discovered she was going to have none of me catching up with her, and she put her long dancers' legs to use as she flew across the sand. I gritted my teeth, putting on speed. There was no way I was going to be outdone by a girl. The gap began shrinking considerably, my feet seeming to barely even touch the sand at all now. I was going to pass her, and I could see if in her face when she turned her head back that she knew it too. I was almost close enough where if I leaned out, I'd be able to touch her. And then she stopped on a dime, spinning on the spot. I immediately tried to put on the brakes, but it was too late. I yelped, tripping over my feet and falling face first into the sand. My fingers came just short of touching her toes from where I had fallen.

"I win," she said smugly, taking a step back before crouching down and smirking at me.

I frowned, wiping the sand from my face with my arm. "What did you think you were doing!?"

"Um, using the terrain to my advantage. You know, strategies and whatnot," she explained, nonchalantly flicking imaginary food particles from her teeth. Okay, my temper was actually starting to bubble a bit here. She had done that to embarrass me. Okay. Okay, fine then.

"Using the terrain to your advantage, huh?" I muttered, standing up and brushing more sand from my shirt and swim trunks. "Okay. If that's how you want to play." She was too busy laughing to see it coming, and I had her cradled in my arms in an instant, using my arm to pin her arms and legs together like a vice.

"Hey, hey! Put me down, bucko! I am not afraid to deck you in the jaw!" she cried, squirming as though I were going to try and shove her in a wood chipper. "What are you doing?"

"Using the terrain to my advantage!" I replied in a sing song voice, starting to wade out in the waves. She was struggling all the more by this point, but little did she know how after I did this to Timberly. In a swift movement, I lifted her over my head to toss her out in the water. As soon as she made a splash, I turned and started to high tail it back to the shore.

"Oh! Oh, you are so dead!" I heard her roar, and now I was the one laughing as I continued on down the beach in a run. I could her splashing through the water behind me, letting out a strangled battle cry just as I paused to peer back behind me. She was soaking wet, her two ponytails looking limp and tangled on her shoulders. I instantly set back to sprinting at full speed, hearing the random obscenities she was spouting from behind me. The beach house was about thirty feet in front of me now, and I knew I was going to get there first. I threw my hands up to latch onto the railing on the porch, pulling myself over. I heard her cry again behind me, and I knew she was right on my tail. I spun on my heel to lean over the railing, feeling a bit immature and not above sticking my tongue out at her.

And that's when it happened: _the awkward, unintentional kiss. _

By some freak of nature or joke of destiny, she had latched on to pull herself up just as I had turned to lean down. If I had just been a few inches to the right or she had waited a split second before standing on her tip toes, we could have avoided this. But no, instead my lips, pursed for sticking out my tongue, met her lips, pursed in her anger at having come in second. This was territory I had never been in before, and I was unprepared, to say the least. It was no more than a few seconds or more – and it was only that long because we were caught in the momentum of Helga's jump – before she let go of the railing completely. She would have fallen hard on her back if I hadn't latched onto her hands, pulling her back towards the railing. She scrambled over it, taking a few steps back from me.

"I just-" I began, blinking rapidly.

"No it's-"

"That was-"

"Accident!" she squeaked, covering her face behind her hands. "Just an accident. We are not speaking of this!" her words were muffled behind her hands.

I shrugged, scratching my head as I fumbled for what to say. "I know it was an accident. It's not like I wanted to kiss you, I was-"

"Excuse you?"

I had realized my mistake well before her icy tone confirmed my fears. "No, I was just staying I wasn't trying to do that! You're my friend; the last thing I want would be to kiss you."

"Well…..well I don't want to kiss you either!" she snapped, her hands falling from her red face. I wasn't sure if it was anger or embarrassment. She snatched up a pair of sandals that were on the porch, flinging the door open to stomp in. I sighed, taking a step toward the door only to have it slammed in my face.

"Oh come on Helga!" I called, groaning as I discovered she had locked me out.

I was precariously balanced on the side lattice when Gerald and Phoebe arrived about fifteen minutes later.

"Do I even want to know why you're climbing the lattice?" he asked, his eyebrows raised skeptically.

"Helga's mad at-whoop!" I scrambled to get my foot back in one of the holds. "She's mad at me," I clarified again, inching my way up.

"Okay, yeah, but why are you climbing the lattice?"

"She locked me out of the house! And when I almost got in the downstairs window, she threw a stupid shoe and me!" I gave a small gesture to the dirty shoe print on the front of my shirt.

"Man, get down off the lattice, don't embarrass yourself! What are you gonna do if she pushes you out a second story window?" Gerald whined, waving me back down. I sighed, jumping down.

"Let me talk to her, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," Phoebe offered, heading up the backstairs and knocking delicately on the door. "Helga! It's me! Can I come in?" she called. A moment later the door opened for an instant, Phoebe yelping slightly as a hand shot out to pull her in her in the door. I heard it lock behind her.

"What did you do?" Gerald pressed, narrowing his eyes as he searched my face. So of course I felt myself start to blush, and his expression shifted to one of mocking with this new development. "Aw, you gotta tell me now."

"I- geez, so look, we sort of tripped into a kiss-"

"Wait, what!?" he hissed. "How do you 'trip' into a kiss? Wait, kiss? You KISSED HELGA!?"

"Shut up!" I snapped, scrambling to clamp my hand over his mouth. "On accident. Really." I explained about our race and the trouble of the railing, and he nodded.

"Okay, okay. I got it now. Still, man, come on. Helga? Let's see if the girls will let us in, I'm starving." Gerald knocked on the door, shocked to see the look on Phoebe's face when she opened it.

"Oh no. There's no way the two of you are coming back in here. After what he-"she nodded her head in my direction, "said to my best friend, don't even think about it. You'll be lucky if she even talks to you!"

"What did I do?" Gerald wailed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Come on, I'm starving. Can't I just get a snack?" Phoebe's face softened until he added, "Arnold and I won't be long." She answered that by slamming the door in his face much as Helga had done to mine.

"Man, why you gotta in trouble with my girls' best friend? Cause then I'm in trouble because you're my best friend. We cannot win."

"I may not know a lot about girls, but I do know this," I declared. "After seventeen years of my life, I know less about them now than when I started." And on that note, we headed back to the car.


	15. Tears

Okay, I tried to pinpoint an age for Timberly. My research brought me "4 years old" or as her being in first grade. My knowledge is that those in 1st grade tend to be about six, so I used that as my basis for aging her.

Oh man, here we go.

* * *

"Get up Gerald! You need to take me to the mall!"

I groaned, rolling over in my sleeping bag and covering my head with the pillow. Sometime I was really glad I didn't have any siblings.

"Gerald!" Timberly whined again, and I heard her stomp her foot on the floor.

"Get out Timberly, geez! Take the bus or something; it's only 10:30!" Gerald grumbled from the bed. I couldn't see him, but I knew he'd done the exact same thing I'd done with the pillow. She'd hit the light switch, flooding the room.

"I don't want to take the smelly old bus. I want you to take me."

"Timberly, no! Besides, I have company."

"Whatever, it's just Arnold," she grumbled back.

"Good morning to you too, Timberly," I muttered back, throwing my arm up to wave at her. I rolled over onto my back, pushing the pillow away from my eyes. I glanced over at Gerald, who hadn't budged from the bed.

"I bet Arnold would take me!" she said haughtily, apparently noticing that I was the only one moving that had a license. "I bet he'd take his little sister and her friends to the mall, if they asked him."

"Yeah, I don't have a sister," I reminded her as I sat up, rubbing the back of my head as I tried to wake up fully. I'd always felt a little bad about how Timberly used my inability to say no against Gerald. Frankly, I couldn't say if I'd be a good brother or not. But I did do things for Timberly that Gerald wouldn't usually do.

"He doesn't want to take you and your preteen friends to the mall," Gerald argued with a bit more conviction as he finally rolled over. He slapped his hands over his eyes, groaning. "We all know Stephanie smells like feet."

"She does not! Come on, please! I already promised Myra and Stephanie we'd have a ride!" she pleaded, and I could tell she was getting desperate from the look on her face. She jutted her bony hip out to the side, pouting the best she knew how.

"I'll take you to the mall, Timberly," I sighed, throwing back the sleeping bag. I rubbed my hand across my face, but I couldn't justify shaving just to take a couple of kids to the mall.

"Oh my gosh, thanks so much Arnold! You're awesome!" she squealed, running forward to give me a quick hug before running out the door, her fingers tapping on her phone rapidly.

"Let her take the bus. We took the bus!" Gerald grumbled, throwing the blanket over his head.

"No big deal," I sighed, letting my yawn out. "I should be heading home soon anyway, I've got a paper to finish. And I need to pick up that book for Mr. Simmons's class anyway."

Gerald's hand shot out from under the covers, pointing at his discarded jeans from the night before. "Me too," I heard him mumble.

I rolled my eyes, pulling his jeans over and extracting his wallet from the pocket. I pulled out a twenty dollar bill, shoving it into the pocket of my own (which I still had on from the day before). I'd taken a change of clothes to the beach, which I'd put on when we got to Gerald's instead. I'd just stayed over, since it was a Saturday night and everyone else was more than likely still at the beach and that left little option of going out. I grabbed my shirt from the floor, slipping it over my head. I grabbed the comb from his dresser, jerking it through my hair. "Thanks for letting me crash on your floor. I'll see you later, man."

Gerald's hand shot from the blanket once more, giving me thumbs up. I responded with my own thumbs up fist, and we quickly did out old handshake before I headed out the door. I made a quick stop in the bathroom, pulling my ziplock bag from the back of the drawer on the right. It had my name on it, and I'd left here ages ago because who wants to carry a toothbrush and toothpaste around? I quickly rushed to finish up my shortened morning routine, putting my things back in the drawer before heading down the stairs.

"Timberly, are you ready?" I called, pulling my truck keys out of my pocket. I hoped she remembered I didn't have some awesome sports car, and her and her friends would have to be pretty close.

"Coming!" She called back, and I turned to find three girls clomping down the stairs, giggling. She certainly hadn't wasted any time collecting them; I'd only agreed to take her about ten minutes ago.

"That was fast," I commented, raising my brow as they came to the door.

"Oh, we had a sleepover,"Timberly explained, waving her hand as though it were obvious. Her friends looked at me in awe, and I found myself feeling awkward as they stared.

"So, you're Stephanie and Myra?" I asked, trying to find some way to break the stares as I opened the door.

"I'm Stephanie," said the slightly larger girl on Timberly's right, the one with the short cut brown hair. "And that's Myra." She gestured to the shortest of the three, who happened to be a rather pretty blond. "She's the baby of the group."

"Until next month!" Myra retorted, frowning. "Then we'll all be fourteen."

"Hey, I know you!" Stephanie interrupted, realization dawning on her face. "You're in my lunch period," she said excitedly as the three of them crawled into the cab. A slight scuffle ensued, but the seating arrangement made sure that Timberly was closest to me, with Stephanie in the middle, and Myra on the outside. "You sit with Gerald."

I nodded as I turned the key in the ignition, pulling my truck out into the road. "Yep, that's me," I replied lamely, feeling lame. I didn't even know how to hold conversations with fourteen year old girls. I was pretty pathetic.

"Are you dating anyone?" she asked curiously, and I glanced over to find her trying to give me what I assumed was meant to be a seductive glance. It kind of looked like she was trying not fall asleep to be honest.

"Um, no, I'm not," I replied, chuckling slightly.

"Oh, well I thought you might be. I've seen you with that girl, what's her name? The really tall one. You guys look cute together."'

She must have meant Lila. I kind of smiled, thinking how girls paid attention to weird things like that. "You mean Li-?" I started to say, only to find my sentence cut short as Myra piped up with "You mean Helga right?" Can you spit take on air? I think it's possible to spit take on air.

"The blonde one?" Stephanie was saying, and Myra nodded as she picked at her nails.

"Yeah, I think her names Helga. She's in debate class with me. She's really scary," Myra explained, shrugging.

"That's the one, then!" Stephanie replied, nodding in a resolute manner. "She has second lunch too. I meant her. So do you like her?" All three girls locked their attention on me, eyes wide. I felt my face grow warm under their gaze.

"No, she's just my friend-!"

"Like a girlfriend?"

"No, like a regular friend," I corrected.

"But do you like you?" "Do you want to be more than friends?" "I think she likes you!"

"All you little nosy girls, out of my truck!" I called over the chatter, stopping the truck in front of the mall for them to get out. Their giggling hurt my ears as they scrambled out the door.

I reached out to pull the door shut when Stephanie popped her head back in, pen in hand. She scribbled a few numbers on my exposed wrist before saying with wink, "I'm single too, you know. And you're really cute."

"Um…thanks?" I replied, watching as she ran back over to the other girls, erupting in more giggles. I shook my head, looking for a parking spot. The irony of this was sickening.

The bookstore wasn't particularly busy, which was to be expected on a Sunday. I pulled my phone out to open the picture I had taken of the book we needed. I actually was kind of hoping Helga might text me to let me know she was over being mad at me, but no such luck. I sighed. She didn't need to be mad at me over something like that. Maybe I could just casually text her and ask if she needed me to pick up the book for her as well since I was already here. I mean, that wasn't pushing any boundaries was it? A friendly gesture was all. If she didn't answer, I would take that a sign she was still upset with me. If she did answer, then I could casually slip into asking if she was. Either way, it was okay, right?

"**You need me to pick up a copy of "The Writer's Lab" for you? I'm getting a copy for myself and Gerald, so I can pick you up one while I'm here," **I punched in, my thumb hovering over the send button. Okay, that seemed simple enough. I took a breath, hitting the send button before completely chickening out and shoving my phone in my pocket, not wanting to have to wait around for an answer. I'd just go ahead and search for the book and check when I found it. It took a bit of searching, but I finally found the section of the store where my book was. I was slightly surprised to see such a large amount of the book, but then I realized Mr. Simmons would have made sure there were enough for all of us to get. He'd explained last week he'd wanted to purchase the books through the school, but his request had been denied since the book would be given to each of us to write in as we pleased. We had until the end of the semester to work through at least five prompts in the book, which would be turned in as part of our final class project. I sighed. Hard to believe that I only had a little over a month left until I was a senior, and just a handful of months till I was eighteen. I shook my head, pulling two copies of the book from the shelf and flipping through them. I took a breath, pulling my phone from my pocket to see if I'd gained any texts since then. I frowned. Nothing new. Okay, so she was still upset with me. Either way, I picked up an extra copy of the book, making my way to the register.

"Junior, huh?" said the cashier as I dropped the books down.

"How'd you guess?" I said with a grin, pulling my wallet from my pocket.

"I know this is on you guys reading list," she replied, bagging my books for me and taking my extended bills. "So, you're a writer?"

"I'm really bad at it," I confessed, shaking my head. "I never know what to write."

"Want some advice?" she said, flashing me a smile as she held my bag out to me.

"Sure?" I asked curiously, taking the bag from her hand.

"First thing! 'The beautiful part of writing is you don't have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon. You can always do better, find the exact word, the apt phrase, the learning smile.' That's Robert Cormier. And the second piece of advice. 'The answer to all writing, to any career for that matter, is love.' Ray Bradbury said that."

"Thanks," I replied, eyes wide. "That's impressive advice…."

"Literature major," she replied with a shrug. "Good luck on your assignment."

"I'll do my best," I assured her, heading toward the door. Though I had no idea what that might consist of.

* * *

I put the finishes touches on my paper a few hours later, licking the sticky frosting from my fingers. I'd filched a cupcake from the kitchen, along with some soda. Sugar rushes were great for papers. I clicked the save button, then the print icon. I could hear my printer whir to life, and I made a mental note to get the paper off it in the morning. I closed my laptop, heading over to my couch to turn on the tv. Maybe I could find something good on to capture the rest of my attention.

I awoke to the sound of my phone buzzing in circles on the floor. I wasn't sure when I'd fallen asleep, but the clock across the room read 11:24. My neck was stiff from my position on the couch, and I groaned as it made a popping noise. I felt around the floor for my phone, groggily answering it.

"'ello?"

"What, you don't even have the decency to apologize to me?" The sound of her voice shocked me from my stupor.

"What? Apologize for what?" I asked, confused. I leaned over, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Apologize for what?! Apologize for WHAT!?" she shrieked, making me hold the phone away from my ear, flinching. "For what you said to me yesterday, you numbskull!"

"What did I even say?" I snapped back in exasperation.

"Oh come on it, you know what you said!"

"Humor me and let's pretend I really don't remember," I said a bit harshly, pushing myself up from the couch.

"About not wanting to kiss me," she said as though it were obvious. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, trying not to laugh at her.

"That's why you called me at 11:30? Because of _that_?"

"Yes, because of _that_!" I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard the knocking on my window. I dropped the phone, rushing over to throw it open.

"What are you doing on my fire escape at 11:30?" I managed after a moment of surprise.

"Get out of my way," she grumbled, flipping her phone shut and crawling through the window.

"Do you not do anything halfway?" I said in disbelief, watching as she paced around the room.

"Shut up. Why'd you say that to me?" she snapped, continuing her pacing.

"Because I didn't think it was a big deal," I tried to explain, shaking my head. I was so confused.

"How was that not a big deal? It wouldn't bother you to have a girl tell you the last thing she would want would be to kiss you?" She poked me square in the chest, glaring. She took a step back, looking down at her hands. "What, am I really that unattractive?" she said softly.

Okay, so I could see where she was coming from. Maybe I'd been a little rude with my words the other day. "Helga you know that's not what I meant," I said honestly, shrugging my shoulders. "Of course I think you're attractive." Honestly, I did. I'm sure had to know she was beautiful. Didn't she know? "Wait," I began, shaking my head to make sense. "Is this about you not thinking you're pretty?" She turned away from me so suddenly I knew I must have hit the true root of the situation. "Let me see if I've got this right. You crawled through my fire escape in the middle of the night to yell at me because you were afraid I didn't think you were pretty?" I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "You are unbelievable, did you know that?"

"It's not funny!" she growled, crossing her arms over her chest and going to huddle on my couch. I went and sat down next to her, looking over at her.

"I don't know who told you weren't pretty, or why you think you aren't, but know this: You are a beautiful girl, and you don't even have to try. We as humans have insecurities, but let me assure you, that doesn't need to be one of yours," I said gently, reaching out softly to rest my hand on her shoulder. I felt her tense a bit under my touch, but I kept my hand in place. I wanted her to know I wasn't going to hurt her, and she didn't have to be scared of me. She finally looked up at me, and I could see the wet streaks down her face. I furrowed my brow, confused. "Is that really what this was all about? Is it something else?"

"Everyone else has it easy, you know," she mumbled, resting her chin on her knees. "Even if they feel bad at school or something, they can go home and know that someone loves them and that with their family, they're special. They're loved and important and _wanted._ I," her voice cracked, but she swallowed it down. "I wish I knew what it felt like to be wanted somewhere."

I knew I should have words of wisdom and advice for her, but sometimes words aren't what is needed. I couldn't think of anything to do other than allow her to fall into arms, trying to pretend like I didn't know she was crying on my shirt. I rested my chin on her head, trying to think of something to tell her that would make this okay. But what was I to do? Who was I to tear her family down in front of her? I didn't know them personally, but bruises on her arms where enough to make me dislike her father as much as I had when I heard him yell at her weeks ago.

"Helga, be honest with me here. He hits you, doesn't he?" I felt her nod against my chest, and I asked my next question with an acrid taste in my mouth. "You didn't come here about what I said on its own, did you? You came because he hit you, didn't he?" Her lack of answer was all I needed to clench my eyes shut, and I slowly wrapped my arms around her. "What does your mother do? Where is she?" I heard her mutter the word drunk, and I gritted my teeth together. "You don't have to be there when he gets that way. You don't have to go to him when he calls. Lock your door, or leave, I don't care, but you do not go to him when he calls you. And you need to do something with your mother. You are her daughter, and she need to step up and be a mother. God knows she can't do that if she drowns herself like that. You know, obviously, that you can come to me anytime. But please come before it starts. Leave before it starts," I babbled, my words not making sense as I tightened my grip on her. I almost expected her to pull away from me, as she so often did when things got to close for comfort, but she surprised me by burrowing deeper into my shirt. Anybody who could reduce her to this state deserved – well, I couldn't think of a punishment good enough to warrant such a crime.

"I got you a copy of the book today, you know," I commented, trying to say something I hoped might help her to calm down.

"Did you buy Lila a copy?" she snapped, sitting up and wiping her eyes on her arm.

"No, why?"

"God you're an idiot."


	16. Rumors

Yay! Very special thanks to my beta Jeni27, who was fabulous enough to go check over my work and correct the typos I am so famous for having...

Special thanks to everyone else who has stuck through the story with me as well. It's been fun fun fun.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold. Awww...

* * *

I was jolted awake by the sound of my alarm, my eyelids blinking rapidly as I tried to register why something felt off about the situation. Why was I not in my bed? I couldn't get to my alarm clock from way over here on the couch. Why was I on the couch again? Oh yeah…that's right…Helga had come over and-HELGA!

I immediately looked down to find Helga fast asleep on my shoulder, my arm pinned against the couch. The events of the night before were now rapidly clicking into place in my head as I tried to keep myself calm. Okay, so apparently Helga and I had slept together on my couch. But not like, _slept together,_ we just happened to both fall asleep on my couch at the same time and shared the vicinity making us together without having been _together. _I shook my head, confused. I was surprised she wasn't budging despite the excessive noise my alarm was making, so I opted for trying to wiggle my arm out from under her head. My only response was her mumbling my name before trying to burrow down in my arm again.

"Helga," I whispered, moving my arm with the hope to jostle her awake. She didn't budge. "Helga!" I repeated, this time much louder as I resorted to yanking my arm completely out from under her head. Her eyes fluttered open as she tumbled forward.

"Criminy, can't a girl get some sleep….around here?" her voice trailed off as she peered around my room. She immediately jumped up from the couch, staring at me with wide eyes. "I fell asleep?"

"Yeah, we both did," I explained, trying to stretch out the pain in my arm. It had resulted to a tingling sensation at this point. My alarm clock was still going at it, so I made myself get up from the couch to turn it off. Helga was still peering around my room in a daze.

"I slept in your room?" she said in a dreamy voice.

"Uh, yeah?" I checked the time on my clock, glad to see I hadn't overslept. It was only 7:15. We'd make it.

"I have to go home!" she suddenly blurted, running to the window she'd come in the night before. I darted over to block her way before she could leave.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly feeling some protective instinct inside of me flare at the thought of her going back to that place, even for a moment. "We have school soon, just leave from here."

"I have to get dressed, I can't wear the same clothes I had on yesterday when I left the beach," she hissed, stomping her foot. "Now move out of the way, Arnoldo, or I'll have to make you."

"So borrow something of mine!" I countered, giving her a look as serious as she was giving me. There was no way I was letting her out of this house unless it was to head to school. I watched as she seemed to consider the idea for a moment.

"You're bigger than me. Plus, I can't wear the same jeans," she rebutted.

"I can find you a small enough shirt, I'm sure. And who cares about jeans? This'll be my third day wearing this same pair of jeans!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm going to change them," I assured her, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Just agree to stay."

She sighed heavily, covering her face with her hand. "Fine, whatever. Just hurry it up."

"On it!" I dashed over to my closest, throwing it open. I had to have a small shirt in here somewhere, right? I sifted through hangers, not having any luck until I got the section of clothes I never touched anymore. On second thought, it would have made sense to start there. I pulled out my baseball t-shirt from freshmen year, the black one with "Hillwood Hawks" on the front in blocky letters and my name and number on the back. "Try this on," I instructed, pulling it off the hanger and tossing it to her.

"I can't wear this!" she whined, holding it up. "It has your name on the back!"

"So what?" I said with a shrug. I didn't see the big deal.

"What are people going to say when they see me, Helga Pataki, wearing your shirt," she explained, eyeing me skeptically.

"Um, they'll say, 'Look. There goes Helga wearing a shirt?'" I said, shrugging as I pulled out clothes for me to wear as well. I closed the door, rolling my eyes. "Just put it on. If you're so scared of having people see my name on the back, I'll loan you a jacket."

"No, I'll just wear the shirt!" She stood awkwardly for a moment as I removed my shirt from the day before.

"What?" I said slowly as I went to my dresser to pull out an undershirt. "What's wrong now?"

"I can't change in here! And you better not plan on getting down to your boxers-briefs-whatever, when I'm in here!" she hissed.

Oh yeah. Shoot, I forgot. I pointed to my door. "The bathrooms down the stairs on the right, but keep in mind it's communal. I can't promise you it's not taken." Her eyes shot daggers at me, telling me I better have a plan B and fast. I sighed. "Fine, come on then. Maybe Grandpa will let you use his so called secret bathroom downstairs. Grab my paper off the printer, would you? And the book is over there," I said, grabbing up my own clothes and my backpack from beside the door. She did as I asked, and I opened the door, peering down the stairs to make sure the coast was clear.

"Here, give this to Lila," she said, thrusting the book and papers into my hands.

"Why, I got it for you?" I replied, confused.

"You're trying to woo her here, not me," she said darkly. I flushed, shoving the paper and the book down in my backpack. We treaded down the stairs quietly, though why, I wasn't sure. It just seemed like the way to handle the situation of smuggling a girl down the stairs at 7:30 in the morning. I paused by the bathroom for a moment, but I could hear the sound of Ernie singing some Dino Spumoni as he showered. "Let's keep moving." We proceeded on down the hall, heading down the second flight of stairs much as we had the first.

"Morning Tex!" grandma called as I passed by the kitchen. I turned to see her decked out in her cowboy hat, flipping pancakes at the stove. "Come on in and sit down at the table and tuck in. You've got a full day at the ranch ahead, so best come get your vittles while they're hot!" She added a stack to one of the plates, dinging her bell with her spatula. "And bring ol' Eleanor in with you! Nice to see you Eleanor!" Helga gave a tiny wave in reply, looking embarrassed.

"Be back in just a bit, grandma. Eleanor – I mean Helga- needs to use the bathroom."

"Ol' Phil's in the outhouse, but shake 'im out and send 'im on up!"

I nodded, leading Helga back to the staircase in order to access the so called 'secret staircase' that led down. After Gerald and I had accidentally exposed the secret all those years ago, grandpa had changed the locks on the door as so he could be the only one to use it.

"Why would there be a bathroom all the way down here?" Helga grumbled as we headed down the dark stairs. She swatted a spider web from her face.

"Because… You know, I really don't have an explanation for that." I paused at the door of the bathroom before knocking on it sharply. "Grandpa, it's me! Grandma say go upstairs an eat pancakes! Also, I need to use your bathroom to get ready for school, Ernie's upstairs."

"Can't get any peace and quiet around here, I-what's this?" he grumbled, throwing open the door. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Helga. "You haven't been living in the basement, have you? Shortman, you know you got a girl following you? Don't make me get my mop!"

"Grandpa, no, this is my friend Helga from school. She just needs to get dressed."

"Oh. I see. You two clean up any mess you make down here now," he said with a laugh. I didn't like the implication of the laugh as he headed up the stairs, but I kept it to myself.

"Wow. Nice bathroom," she said in awe, slamming the door in my face. I rolled my eyes, feeling no shame as I finished stripping down in the empty basement, buttoning my shirt and sitting on the stairs to lace my shoes. I easily finished getting ready in no time, leaning back on the stairs. I could feel my stomach grumble in hunger, but it would have been rude to go upstairs and leave Helga all alone. So I hummed lightly to myself, waiting.

* * *

"Okay, so I'll just walk you home, okay? And by home, I mean my place," I reiterated to Helga as we made our way up the front steps of the school. She frowned, narrowing her eyes as she turned to look at me.

"I heard you the first three times you said that," she sighed, rolling her eyes at me. "Just relax. Now move it football head, I gotta head to the library and print off my paper." She pushed me out of the way, weaving around other students as she disappeared down the hallway. I exhaled loudly through my nose as I worked the combination to my locker. I suddenly felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of my neck, turning to find Gerald staring at me intensely.

"What?" I finally asked, starting to feel my face grow warm for unknown reasons as he continued to stare at me with his guilt seeking heat vision.

"What's going on?" he asked, casually moving to his locker next to mine. "And don't say 'nothing', because that's a dead on lie. Helga isn't wearing you shirt for no reason," he said, slamming the locker shut and crossing his arms.

"So what? She needed a shirt, and I didn't have anything smaller to give her," I said coolly, trying to not look like I was as nervous as I felt talking about this situation.

"Why would she need _your_ shirt?"

"Because…because she just did," I fumbled, suddenly experiencing severe butterfingers syndrome, dropping my binder on the floor. I crouched down, trying to collect my papers as they scattered across the floor. I reached out to grab my paper for Mr. Simmons's class when a shiny black high heel slammed down on it. I jerked my hand back, looking up to find Rhonda glaring down at me darkly.

"You'll never guess who I saw in the library….and wearing your baseball shirt, nonetheless," she said coldly.

I swallowed loudly, finally realizing why Helga had been so against the idea earlier. Girls really did try and over-analyze everything. "I know who you saw, and it's not what you think. Would you please get off my paper?" I said with surprising coolness. I reached out to place my hand on the paper, but her shoe pulled back, taking my paper with it. I groaned.

"Are you sure it's not exactly what I think?" she said, matching my tone. She lifted her foot from my paper, and I quickly place it back in my binder as I stood up. I was taller than Rhonda even with her heels on, but her gaze was managing to make me feel less than a foot tall. "Cause I think you're trying to be a skeeze and dangle two girls at once. And two complete opposites at that. Like I don't know what you're trying to do with Lila."

"Excuse me?" I heard Gerald throw in from beside me. "Arnold wouldn't do that, and you know it Rhonda."

"All I know it what I see. Which is you trying to get back in Lila's good graces because, let's face it, we all still know you're crazy about her," she said in a matter of fact tone, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "But I also hear from little birds that Helga and you have been in a rather friendly state the past few weeks, and here she is, showing up wearing your shirt. And don't think I don't know she was wearing those jeans yesterday." She narrowed her eyes, looking smug.

"Rhonda, it's not what you're thinking. Helga…Helga and I have nothing going on. And even if we did, what goes on between Helga and me, as well as between Lila and me, is our business. And I'd like for you to respect that," I said with a frown. "I have to get to class." I pushed my locker shut, keeping my gaze down as I pushed my way through the throng of students. I kept my gaze focused on the desk until Gerald took his seat beside me.

"So. You ready for the math test tomorrow? I hate math," I heard him say airily, opening his math book and pulling out the review sheet we'd been working on last Friday.

"So she accidentally fell asleep on my couch last night. I gave her a shirt to wear this morning. Nothing's going on between us," I blurted, cradling my face in my hands.

"Man, look, I believe you. I'm just saying, be careful about how much time you spend with Helga. That's big gossip around these parts, and fueling the fire won't help when it comes to Lila."

I nodded, sighing as I leaned back in my chair. This was getting a bit more complicated than I thought. And I'd already thought it was pretty complicated. I opened my eyes as I heard Lila's voice.

"You look ever so tired," she said, frowning as she paused at my desk. She was wearing a knee length forest green skirt, her white fitted shirt showing all the right curves. I was thankful I was sitting down.

"Just a bit, yeah," I admitted, smiling like a fool as she looked at me with concern.

"Well I hope you get to feeling better. I think you should rest when you get home. You'll feel oh so much better," she said sweetly with a smile. I smiled in return as she made her way to her seat across the room. Today would work itself out. I just needed to look on the bright side.

* * *

"You should have just worn the jacket if you were going to yell at me!" I finally snapped, throwing my hands up as I sat down heavily on the bench outside in the courtyard. Helga slammed her tray down on the table in front of me, frowning.

"Why did you have to go blabbing to people about what happened!?" she growled, stabbing her fork down in the baked potato on her plate.

"I didn't blab to anyone! Rhonda came to me about it! I told her we were just friends, geeze. I don't see why it's a big deal," I groaned. I popped the top of my soda, nursing it with a sour expression. "It's nothing against you anyway. I'm the one that's apparently a 'skeeze.'" I added airquotes for emphasis.

"But people are whispering that I'm an imaginary home wrecker now, turning you to the dark side. Look at me, Helga the home wrecker." She ripped her fork through the potato on her tray harshly.

"Turn the shirt inside out or something."

"If you had just let me go home-"

"Why would I let you go home after you came over last night in tears about, let's see, being at home?!" I glared across the table at her, and she matched my gaze with equal intensity. Most of the students ate in the cafeteria, leaving the tiny courtyard tables to the so called delinquents. Unlike the others in the cafeteria, these students could care less about our personal matters. The moment I'd walked in, the whispers began in a wave, rising to a dull roar when Helga entered from across the room. She made the entire situation worse by descending on me in a rage and dragging me out the door by my sleeve. Gerald had attempted to join us, but she refused to let him sit at the table. This was cutting into my Lila time.

"Because you don't own me! I don't have to listen to you!"

"I never said you had to! But there's no reason to walk into danger," I rebutted, poking at my food. I'd lost my appetite.

"You seem to think this is something that happens all the time. It's not, okay? It's maybe once in a blue moon. I was under the impression I could talk to you about things without you getting your panties in a twist, football head, but I guess I was wrong."

"You know Helga, you don't have to be rude about this. I was just trying to help. I was trying to help by giving you a shirt. And I've been constantly battling off rumors for you all day, and-"

"Oh you weren't fighting them for me," she said with a snort. "You were fighting for you. You don't want to tarnish your squeaky clean reputation by being seen with me in public or something, I guess. You could stand up for me and tell people we're friends, but you don't. You're so afraid people will stop liking you once you stop trying to say and do what they expect from you. And one day, it's going to get really old and you're going to get really tired of it. And when that happens, you won't have anyone to go to about it because no one will know the actual you. And you won't have anyone to blame but yourself." And with that said, she jerked her tray up, stomping off to leave me sitting by myself.


	17. Waltz

Yay! Thankfully I got this done…it took me a bit to make myself sit down and focus, so I turned this into a chore my beta, Jeni27…. Making her sift through a lot of mess here, and very grateful to all her suggestions and corrections!

I think I'm right in saying Miru(o?)lover suggested this lesson as well =)

I forgot to post the song information...so here it is.

The Cinderella waltz I have in mine is this one: watch?v=d_tiG34Y3lY

And the song Arnold is singing is Lullabye (Goodnight my Angel) which can be found here: watch?v=dcnd55tLCv8

* * *

I lay on the bed, the pillow covering my face with my hands crossed over my chest. I had dragged an old fan into my room, adjusting it on a small stool so it can blow over my shirtless chest. The day had progressively gotten warmer as it wore on, and my room, with its skylights, could not block out the sun's fury.

Helga had evaded me after lunch, much to my dismay. I'd waited around by her locker after school only to find out from Phoebe that Helga had left school sick. Call me selfish, but I had a feeling that her sickness might be a new found Arnold allergy. I confirmed this theory by trying to text and call her a few times to ask if our lesson was still on and if she was okay, but I got nothing. Not a single word.

I pushed the pillow back from my face, wiping the sweat that had collected on my brow. Maybe I should just go over there. Maybe we could talk about it. After all, ever since I got home I'd had nothing to do but brood over the things she had said to me at lunch. She was right, after all. If I'd just told people we were friends, maybe things wouldn't have blown up. If I didn't offer up the truth of the matter, people were just going to keep making up their own ideas.

I sat up, fumbling for my phone on the nightstand. I sent Helga a message, telling her I'd be at the park if she wanted to talk to me. Part of me wanted to just go straight to her house and force her to talk, but another, wiser part of me knew that forcing my presence on her when she didn't want to talk was wrong. I would abide by lesson two: Don't be pushy or overbearing.

It was simply too hot to put back on the shirts I'd worn to school, so I settled for a threadbare sleeveless undershirt that I kept for such occasions. I headed out of my room and out of the house, shoving my hands in my pockets as I walked down the sidewalk toward the park. Where had this heat wave come from? The rest of the week had been rather pleasant.

I was lucky when I arrived at the park, the slight breeze near the lake was an instant cooling sensation. I sat down in the grass near the water, removing my shoes and rolling up the cuffs of my pants. I knew I wasn't supposed to put my feet in the water, but I really couldn't care less at the moment. I spent a few minutes in this way, letting the water ripple slowly over my bare feet. I'd almost given up on Helga even showing up when I heard a shuffle in the grass behind me. I turned to find her behind me, swallowing loudly. She glared down at me as though she was going to rip me to shreds.

"I'm sorry," I burst out breathlessly. "You were right, and I was stupid to make things worse by not just telling Rhonda we were friends in the first place. It was my fault, because by not doing that, I wasn't helping you at all. I wasn't helping anyone. And I'm sorry." I held my hand out, palms up in a gesture of surrender.

The anger faded from her face slightly, but she twisted her mouth back into a frown. "Yeah, well, you are still an idiot," she muttered, looking down at the grass.

"I know," I replied, shrugging helplessly. "So, you knew about Lila the whole time?" I inquired, a bit embarrassed. I gave a halfhearted grin.

"Everyone knows, Arnoldo," she replied with a heavy sigh as she plopped down in the grass beside me unceremoniously. I groaned, closing my eyes. This was a bit suck-ish.

"I'd hoped I wasn't that obvious."

"I've seen the way you look at her," she explained twirling the loose hair that had escaped from her high ponytail.

"And you agreed to help me anyway?" I asked curiously.

She shrugged in reply. "Well, yeah. I figured what harm could it do? I got Bob off my back about the banquet, and you got to be happy." She began to undo the laces of her pink high-tops, setting the shoes neatly beside her and putting her socks inside. She slipped her feet into the water next to me, wiggling her painted toes in the water.

"I guess I should have just fessed up in the first place," I sighed, leaning back on my hands.

"You seem to have a problem fessing up to things," she pointed out a bit sharply.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry a million times over, and I'm sorry about what I said at the beach. I'm sorry for everything I've ever done that needed an apology," I lamented.

"Well, it's certainly a start," she said with a laugh, dealing a soft punch to my arm. "It's not like I really had much of reputation to worry about. It's more so the principle of the thing, ya know?"

I nodded. "What's school without rumors, right?"

"It'd be a lot less annoying, for one," she grumbled. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Did you really mean what you said at lunch?" I asked finally, focusing my attention on pulling up small blades of grass. Next to having Helga mad at me, that had been the biggest thing to gnaw at me today. She was right though, I hated having people upset with me. But did that really make me a bad person to want to please everyone?

"Okay, listen. You don't have to be so 'noble' all the time," Helga explained, turning to look at me. "Yeah, I meant it. Sometimes you're going to have to hurt few people by telling them something they don't want to hear. And by doing that, you find out more about yourself as a person. I learned that a long time ago."

I pondered over this for a moment, pursing out my lips. Take things with a grain of salt. "I don't like to hurt people."

"When you try and please everyone, it hurts you. And it unintentionally hurts others. So figure out which is more important to you. You always want to have friends, I guess, but figure out which friends are worth it. Not everyone is." I watched as she seemed to ponder over her own statement, continually twirling that loose strand of hair.

I nodded, standing up and brushing off my pants. Subject change, it was too hot for serious thinking. "Hey, you wanna go get some ice cream or something? It's way too hot today."

"You buying?"

I pretended to think it over for a moment before defiantly stating, "No. You are."

"Hey, wait a minute. You're supposed to say yes!" she whined, scrambling to put her shoes on.

"No, no. I'm supposed to say no when the situation would hurt me. This would hurt my wallet. So no. Don't be a mooch," I joked, throwing my arms up as she pelted a twig at me.

"This situation is going to hurt either way," she rebutted, "so you need to figure out which hurts less."

"Hmm. No. I don't want to."

"Stop running, and come back here you big baby!"

Two milkshakes later courtesy of me, because I'm a sucker, we found ourselves lounging in the weathered hammock on the roof of the boarding house, my foot hanging over the edge to rock the large two person net back and forth. We'd put it up about four years back, under a little tent like thing. It was great for when the weather was just warm enough to sleep outside. Sort of like camping without the travel and the woods, and grandpa had finally consented to it after I'd bugged him for years.

"You started on any of the writing assignments?" I heard Helga ask from the other side of the hammock. We were laying so our heads where at opposite ends.

"No, not yet," I admitted, chewing my straw thoughtfully.

"Did you give Lila the book?" she asked with a bit of her lecture tone mixed in.

"I kind of forgot," I admitted, giving another push with my foot. I'd been so distracted the rest of the day, I hadn't even thought about it. I'd have to remember to do it tomorrow, and hope she hadn't gone out and bought her own copy by then.

"Do it. I've started on one so far. I think I'm going to like this project."

"Hey, hey, hey. Phoebe told me you went home sick ?" I remembered, struggling to sit up just enough to see her but not disrupt the hammock.

"Cause I was sick, duh."

"You aren't sick now!"

"So maybe I had cramps and blood was shooting out of my vagina in torrents!" I blanched, jumping up from the hammock and stumbling backwards. I was surprised when she started to laugh hysterically.

"Why would you tell me that?!" I cried, shaking my head to clear the image away. I didn't need to see that.

"I was joking, for Pete's sake. Calm down Arnoldo. You're such a baby." I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me, sipping on her straw.

"Then why'd you leave?" I grumbled, refusing to move back to the hammock. I settled in one of the old folding chairs nearby.

"Because I could. Oh, look." She fumbled in her pocket for a bit, producing a shiny new phone with a two toned pink case.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Bob got it for me. He gets me gifts when he feels guilty. It's a pretty sweet phone."

"What, so if he gets you a gift, it's all okay?" I inquired, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. Like he could just buy her off.

"I would like to point out someone who brought me a book and chocolates to make a fight okay," she said in stiff tone. Okay. Touché. But I still didn't like it.

"It's different."

"Not really."

"Helga-"

"Don't push it, Arnold," she snapped, and I closed my mouth. Fighting over it again would be useless. She knew my stance on it by now, and I hoped she'd keep it in mind. That's all I could ask for on the subject, I supposed. No more, no less.

"So do I get a lesson today, or what?" I said, sifting the subject. I pushed my hair back from where it had fallen in my face.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. We'll do it up here, your room feels like a sauna," she observed, sitting up. She brought her hand to her lips for a moment to catch the milkshake that had escaped down her chin as she spoke. "I didn't have a whole lot of time to plan this, because I usually do these the night before. But, I was working on one Saturday night, so we're going to expand on it."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding my head. I finished off my milkshake, placing my empty cup by the chair.

"You got a radio up here?" she asked. I shook my head, but knew we could easily get one from my room. I popped the skylight above my bed, taking the ladder down to my bed. I hadn't expected her to follow me, but she did. "Does your radio play from an mp3 player?"

"Um, no, but I have a speaker for that. Hold on." I rummaged in the various shelves around my bed, finally pulling out the portable speaker I'd gotten from Gerald on my last birthday. I held it out to her, and she plugged her phone into it before gesturing for me to follow her back up. My room was still rather toasty, so I took a quick moment to dart around and push open all the windows I could.

"Come on! Criminey, I'm curing cancer up here!" I heard Helga call, and I shook my head as I scrambled back up the ladder. She was crouched, fiddling with the speaker as I emerged.

"Okay, I'm here. So what's this one about?" I strode over, watching as she hit play and adjusted the volume. A melodious sort of waltz began pumping through the speakers, and I looked at her in confusion. I had no idea what this related to.

"This is the waltz from Cinderella," she explained. I shook my head, and she rolled her eyes. "Let me be a bit more blunt. You're jealous of David for whatever God awful reason."

I felt my ears grow warm. "I never said that."

"You don't have to. It's kind of obvious. But that's okay, because this is a learning tool." A mischievous grin was plastered on her face, and I found myself taking a step backwards. Something told me this was not going to be one of our normal lessons. "See, you aren't going to be the only one trying to get on Lila's good side. There are going to be boys with skills you don't have vying for her attention. But that's okay. Do you know why?" I shook my head no, eyes wide. "Because you have the ability to learn new skills. For example, if the guy that is currently in the forerunning for Lila's affections played guitar, you could make the effort to learn. You don't have to be good, you don't have to excel. You just have to try. Because if you make the special effort to learn something new that a girl is interested in, it gets you a whole lot of points. Are we making sense here?"

I mulled it over for a moment, but I think I understood what she was saying. "So if Lila really liked piano, the fact that I made an effort to learn it for her would show that I cared?"

She nodded, grinning. "Exactly. If you show genuine interest in something a girl likes, then she'll start to show genuine interest in you."

"Well darn, why didn't I think of that," I laughed, running my fingers through my hair. I knew a few things Lila liked that I could try to work on. These things seemed so obvious once they were pointed out. "Hey, why are you turning it off?" I inquired as the music ceased playing.

Helga shrugged from her crouched position. "Oh, I was mainly doing that to scare you. You should have seen your face!" She giggled.

"Aww, I thought I was going to get to learn how to dance," I groaned a bit sarcastically.

"Naah, I don't think you have it in you to dance. Besides, David's been dancing for years. I don't think you'd match up."

I bristled at the comment, frowning. "Hey. I think I could be rather decent, if I wanted to be."

She turned to look at me, raising her eyebrows. "Hmm…I dunno…" she mused.

"Show me something, then," I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest. She straightened up and looked at me with an impish grin. It was at that point I knew I'd walked into a trap. Or rather talked my way into it. Crap.

"Alright. How about some stretches, mister fabulous dancer? Follow me."

I'd never wondered what it felt like to be a pretzel, but I was sure that if anyone asked me about it, I'd have great knowledge of it after the series of stretches Helga had put me through. I'd just started laughing halfway through at the absurdity of the entire situation, but she was relentless in her quest to prove her point – though I was still clueless as to what her point might actually be.

If the stretches were hard, trying to do this dance was even harder. What had looked like a rather simple waltz when I had watched them practice, turned out to be rather intricate, and I was finding myself stumbling like an idiot as she tried not to laugh at me.

"Why do you people do this to yourselves?" I wailed after I failed once again to do some weird leg stand thing that more or less made me feel like an awkward flamingo.

"Because it's actually fun. Okay, okay, stop it," she was giggling, waving her arms at me to stop. "I think I've proven my point."

"What point was that?" I muttered, rubbing my calf muscles. Ouch.

"The point of that is this: You've just learned the first ten minutes of a rather difficult dance for an experienced dancer. You may not have done it perfectly, but you learned it. Now tell me, is there anything Lila is interested that it would be harder than that to learn?" I frowned. I couldn't think of one single thing that would prove to be more taxing on my dignity or patience. She smiled triumphantly. "Another successful lesson."

"Very funny," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"I'm a laugh riot. On a serious note though, you do know how to waltz, right?" she asked, brushing her bangs from her face. I shook my head no. "Then you do actually need to learn that. "

"What? Why?" I protested, not looking forward to learning any more dancing today. I had a deep rooted respect for David now. Flexible weirdo.

"If you end up going to the banquet, there is dancing. I don't expect you to know how to really dance to anything upbeat, but I do want to dance. So a waltz, with a bit of modification, is suitable for a slow dance. Plus, you'll use it at prom, your wedding, so on, so on." She waved her hand at me. "So come here."

I consented, taking a few steps forward. I was suddenly really nervous for whatever reason. She crouched down and pressed a button on her phone. Slow piano music began to weave its way out as she stood back up.

"This isn't really a waltz," I pointed out, but she shushed me as she took her place in front of me. I knew from watching people dance before that one of my hands was supposed to go on her waist, so I complied with that a bit nervously. Her hand went to my shoulder, and I was instructed my free hand needed to be on top of hers. So I got us to that point in our stance, and then found myself completely lost as to what to do next. She seemed to notice this and began to move her feet slowly. I found myself watching her feet diligently, and I though this shouldn't be that hard. I began to hum under my breath as I caught onto the gist of this modified slow dance waltz…or whatever she was going to call it. One, two three, one, two, three, then turn. Or something like that.

"You need to take over the leading," she said gently, and I nodded, broken from my thoughts.

"Okay. So do what I was doing, but…backwards?" She nodded and I took a breath, trying to switch what I was doing to match what she had been. I stumbled a moment, but thankfully she was patient enough for me to pick back up on what I was supposed to be doing. Heck, I even got the turning part down. I picked back up my humming to distract my mind from the closeness we had slipped into, continuing our one, two ,three, then turn pattern. I glanced down at Helga to find her with her eyes closed, looking completely content. I couldn't help but smile, shaking my head. I was familiar enough with the next song that played so I sang along lightly as we continued to move across the roof.

"_I promised I would never leave you, and you should always know… Wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be far away,"_ I sang in a quiet voice, taken aback as she opened her eyes to peer up at me. Her eyes had a dreamy quality to them again, and I felt something inside of me grow warm at seeing her in such a state. I was startled as she suddenly jerked away from me. "Did I do a wrong step?" I asked, babbling confusedly. My arms where still in the dancing position, so I dropped them to my side awkwardly.

"I just…I have homework," she snapped gruffly as she pushed me sharply, all traces of her former contentment gone. She jerked her phone from the speaker, and disappeared over the fire escape. I was sensing some sort of pattern here, it seemed.


	18. So you had a bad day

Whoo, another one done. It's a bit of filler, but I had three specific things that this chapter establishes that will be brought up later. Have no fear!Once again, thanks to beta Jeni27! Yay! She had some good suggestions for this one.

* * *

You alright, Shortman?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said with a hint of bitterness as I stood on the stoop of the boarding house, a dripping mass of mud and grass clippings. The rain pattered around me lazily, and I turned to peer at the dripping brown trail of dirt I'd left on my trek back home. A crash of thunder resounded, and the rain went from its lazy crawl to a full on downpour. I frowned, my shoulders slumping under the weight of it all. "I'll be in in just a minute, Grandpa," I sighed heavily. I was grateful that he didn't press me anymore on the subject.

"I'll have Pookie make you something warm," he said before leaving the door open and heading toward the kitchen.

I sighed again for good measure, holding my arms out to my sides, throwing my head back as I yelled against the rain, "Do you think this is funny? Did I do something wrong? I…why is everything so complicated!?" It felt good to have a bit of self-pity. I slid down to sit on the concrete, fighting with the laces of my shoes. I managed to finally get them undone, a bit disgusted to see there was no longer any trace of white left on my socks. Typical, wasn't it? I sighed, standing back up and looping my fingers in my shoes as I carried them in the boarding house. I shut the door behind me, leaving a squelching wet trail as I made my way to my room. Luckily most of the mud had washed off on the steps, but I still felt dirty. I jerked the stairs to my room down, half expecting the entire roof to just collapse on my head at this point. Put me out of my misery. I sifted through the clothes that were on the floor, settling for my gym shorts and a muscle shirt before heading down the stairs to the bathroom. I shirked my clothes once inside, hanging the soaking wet things on the shower curtain rod. They were already wet, so it didn't really matter. I let the water get as hot as I could stand it before stepping in. I felt relief as the warm water washed over me. I watched the dirty water disappearing down the drain, which made me feel like I was making progress. I scrubbed the dirt from my arms and legs, having to shampoo my hair twice to get all the remnants out of it. If anything, I could now say I was well exfoliated. My skin was a dull red color, both from the heat and scrubbing.

I spent a bit longer just enjoying the relaxing feeling of my shower. By the time I got downstairs to the kitchen, Grandma was placing a steaming bowl on the table. I smiled appreciatively. "You made me macaroni," I said with gratitude. I plopped down in the chair heavily, watching as she followed my example.

"Had a rough day?" she said in one of her rare serious tones. I simply nodded in reply, leaning on my fist as I stirred my noodles.

"Maybe you should talk about it?" she suggested. I shrugged, not really sure what good it would do. I remembered the day in vivid detail already.

It had started with me alarm blaring loudly, shattering my dreams with a violent crack. I jerked into a sitting position, groggily rubbing my eyes with my palms as I kicked back the covers with my feet. I'd gotten to bed somewhere around midnight, but no big deal. I'd get through the day; I could take a nap when I got back home or something. Or so I thought.

A pile of clothes I'd brought up from the laundry room the night before was laying on my couch, so I sifted through it, pulling out my jeans and a shirt. I had a stroke of good luck to find the bathroom empty, so I was able to get in a quick shower and finish up my routine without having to wait outside for ten or so minutes for someone to finish. I had a flash of hope that today would turn out to be a much better than yesterday had been. If I started off in a good mood, the day had to follow, right? I had smiled at the thought, heading down to breakfast.

My previous thought pattern proved to be seriously wrong, sadly. That was made clear when first period rolled around. The day before, Helga had reminded me about giving Lila the book. I'd made sure to put the book in my backpack for this occasion, so I pulled it out when I saw Lila glide into the room. She looked as beautiful as always, her auburn hair free flowing today. She was wearing a high-waisted green skirt that showed off her figure, and I had to shake my head to break my stare. I picked the book up, feeling like I was walking to guillotine as I made my way to the desk. Okay, I could do this. Just give a smile and use my casual, cool guy mannerisms to present her with the book. No problem.

Except I am not a cool guy.

"Good morning Arnold," she said with a smile as she slid into her desk. "How are you?"

"I'm great," I squeaked, clearing my throat a bit. I held up the book, giving a shy smile. "I bought thisbook at the bookstore in case you needed it. I was picking up some copies for the guys and I thought, Hey! What if He- I mean you. I meant you. What if Lila needed a book? Not that I think you're one of the guys! I mean, obviously you're a girl. A very lovely girl in fact and….and I'm just going to go sit down now." There is nothing more embarrassing than word vomit. I placed the book on her desk, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I could see her lips twitch as though she were trying not to laugh at me. I hung my head, covering my face with my hands as I slunk back to my desk. That had not gone how I expected it to.

I dared a glance back to find Lila making a movement to stand up, but thankfully Mrs. Hartford chose that moment to begin her lesson. I was grateful, since this saved me from having to face Lila after that embarrassing incident.

"Good morning, class!" she began, holding up a stack of papers. A realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh no…. "I hope you all remembered the test today. It's going to cover the last three chapters we went over. As always, do your best and turn your paper into me when you're done!"

I turned to look at Gerald in desperation. He looked at me, confused.

"What?" he whispered, peering around to make sure Mrs. Hartford was still passing papers out across the room.

"I forgot the test!" I groaned, my foot starting to tap nervously on the floor. I hadn't even looked at the review sheet since last week. I'd been so preoccupied the day before with the rumors; I must have missed the reminder.

"Oh, man," he said sympathetically. "You'll be fine. You're smart, and you remember all the formulas, right?"

"No talking boys!"

We clamped our mouths shut as she placed the papers on our desks. The numbers on mine immediately began to swim in patterns I didn't recognize, making me dizzy. I picked up my pencil, and took a deep breath. I could do this.

At least I thought I could. When I finally turned my paper in, I felt like I was turning in a death sentence. I felt like I had done that badly. "Thank you Arnold," she said quietly, setting my paper in the stack on her desk. I'd have to wait until lunch to see my grade, though. She'd assigned us all random code names at the beginning of the semester so she could print out our grades and hang the sheet in the hallway. That way, we would only know our grade. The rest would be random numbers and names.

My luck didn't improve when science rolled around. I dropped two of the three beakers my group was working with, succeeding in making a large mess as well as cutting Nadine's leg. She'd assured me it was a small cut, no big deal. Despite her assurance, I still felt terrible about it.

I was late to Mr. Simmons's class, having had to stay behind to clean up the mess. At least my teacher gave me a pass to excuse my lateness. It was a small thing, but at least it kept me from detention_._Gerald tried to give me an encouraging smile as I slid in the door, making my way to my desk with my head down. My focus was halfhearted as I pulled out my binder.

I was surprised when the girl next to me slid a folded piece of paper on my desk. I looked at her in confusion, but she shook her head and pointed behind her. I turned to see Helga with intense focus on the whiteboard. I rolled my eyes as I undid her complicated folding.

_ "So I heard you made a fool of yourself this morning. I wasn't aware I had to teach you how to talk to girls as well."_

I frowned, scrawling furiously, _"I can talk to girls just fine. I just got a tongue tied. It's Lila. I can't help it._" I peered up to make sure Mr. Simmons was preoccupied with the board before placing the note on the girl's desk. She passed it back casually, scribbling notes with her free hand as she did so.

I was working on copying down my own notes when the piece of paper was plopped on my desk again. "_How do you expect to get to her to go on a date with you if you can't even talk to her? Speaking of 'date', I found a stupid dress for the stupid banquet. I'd rather eat paste._" She'd drawn a crude stickfigure gagging to prove her point. I grinned.

_"I bet it looks great. I don't have to wear a tux, do I? Can I just wear khakis or something? I'm broke."_ I drew a sad face before folding it back up and gave it to the girl to pass back.

"Why don't you two just text like normal people?" she grumbled as she tossed Helga's reply back at me. I muttered an apology before looking back at Helga, who raised an eyebrow. I pulled my phone out of my pocket just enough for her to see it, shrugging. She nodded in reply.

"So what, you guys are passing notes now?" Gerald's teasing whisper caused me to jump, startled. Harold seemed to overhear this remark, and I didn't scramble fast enough to get the note before he snatched it from my desk.

"Give it back!" I pleaded in a whisper, darting a glance at Mr. Simmons.

"_Sure. I think you look good in Khakis_!" he read aloud in a high pitched, mocking voice. "Aww, Arnold 'n Helga!" There was a smattering of giggles around the classroom, and Mr. Simmons had to pause in writing his notes to ask everyone to calm down.

"Now class! Class! There's no need to laugh about! Arnold, Helga, please stop passing notes." I dared a glance back at Helga to find her with almost the same reaction I had. Flushed cheeks, but with an angry look on her face as she sank down in the desk. I figured it was as good an escape as any, so I followed suit. I was just ready for the day to be over.

I was thankful when the lunch bell rang. Nothing bad could happen at lunch. Or so I thought.

"You want to stop by and check our test grades?" Gerald asked, loading an extra slice of pizza onto his tray. I frowned, grabbing a sleeve of French fries.

"Ugh. Sure, I guess. I'm really not looking forward to that."

"I'm sure you did fine!"

"Yeah," I said sarcastically, paying the cashier. I turned to look back at him over my shoulder as I headed to our usual table. "When pigs fl-whoa!" I hadn't expected anyone to walk in front of me – no one does I guess- and I found my food had suddenly migrated to the front of my shirt. "Really?" I sighed.

"Oh Arnold! I'm ever so sorry! Here, let me help you," Lila apologized frantically.I looked up to find a look of panic on her pretty face and only a tiny stain of sauce on her shirt. I winced_._ "That was my fault!" She took my tray and quickly put it on the table, trying to salvage what little food I had left. "Come on. I'm oh so sure if we go wipe your shirt of now, the stains won't stay." I blushed as she took my hand and pulled me out into the hallway where the restrooms were. I waited as she darted into the girls bathroom, emerging a moment later with a wad of damp paper towels. She began to blot at the pizza sauce on my shirt, her lips pursed. "I just feel oh so terrible about this."

"Don't worry," I assured her. "Accidents happen." Boy,do they happen.

"Oh, I know. I was just ever so eager to talk to you, and I guess I wasn't as cautious. I'm ever so sorry," she explained, moving on to another stain.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked stupidly, blinking rapidly.

"Yes. I wanted to thank you ever so much for thinking of me this morning, but I already have a copy of the prompt book. I was going to ask if you would be alright with giving it to someone else. It was ever so thoughtful of you, and I thought it'd be a nice gesture to pass it on. Eugene dropped his down the grate this morning. I'm sure he'd be ever so appreciative."

"Oh," I replied, slightly deflated. "Sure, I don't mind. You can give it to him if you want, tell him it's your gift."

"Oh no!" she replied, eyes wide. "I could never do that. It was your book, and I don't want him to think I got it when it was you. I'd feel ever so guilty about it."

"Don't feel guilty," I said with a forced laugh. "That book just needs a home." Third times the charm. Helga, Lila, Eugene.

"Well if you're sure. So," she said quietly, pausing her dabbing to shuffle her feet. "I hear you and Helga are a thing now?"

"No, no no!" I retorted, maybe a bit too eagerly. She stepped back in surprise as I waved my hands. "We're just friends, honestly." I took a deep breath. "I kind of like someone else."

"Oh," she replied, her cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. "Well, I think your shirt should come clean just fine. Thanks ever so much for the book." She turned and made her way back to the lunchroom, and I sighed heavily, leaning against the wall.

"Stupid, stupid," I muttered.

"That wall never did anything to you."

I rolled my head to the side, frowning. "Oh really funny Helga."

"Just trying to lighten the mood," she snapped, taking a large bite from the stick of jerky she was holding. "Gosh. Leave it to little miss sunshine to rain on your parade. Ironic." She shrugged, pushing past me and continuing on down the hall. Whatever.

The rain started just as lunch was ending. We could see it spattering lazily on the glass in Mr. Simmons class. I shook my head, figuring it seemed like a day for rain.

"Oh Arnold, thanks so much for the book!" I jerked my head around to see Eugene perched beside my desk, the copy I'd given to Lila now held tightly in his hands. "Lila told me you had an extra copy, so I'm really grateful you'd give it to me!"

"No problem," I assured him, shrugging. "No big deal."

"Thanks Arnold. You're a good friend!" I leaned back in my seat as he continued on past me. Yay for Eugene. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I pulled it out discreetly. Mr. Simmons was just starting to give us our assignment for the rest of the period. We had to turn in the prompts we were doing at the end of class. He'd approve all our choices, but he was giving us time to flip the book and plan out which ones we wanted to do. Everyone was writing away in their books, so I was free to look at my phone.

_ "You look like someone pissed in your cornflakes."_

The message was so random I couldn't help but chuckle. _"What prompt are you doing?"_

_ "The one about the fairy tale. I have a hankering for some prince and princess type things."_

_ "Can I read it when you get done?"_

_ "Only if you do the same prompt and I can read it."_

_ "…..I make no promises it'll be decent, but I'll write it just for you."_

_"I'll hold you to it."_

I shook my head, flipping to the prompt she had suggested. I shook my head, but pulled out my composition book and set to work. I was a really bad writer.

The rest of the day was filled with various other mishaps, such as tripping over Sid's boots in history, having my locker jam on me, plus my accidental run in with Wolfgang. To make a long story short, I ended up in a mud puddle full of lawn mower clippings with barely a shred of my dignity intact. I was lucky enough my books didn't get dunked with me.

And that catches us up until now. I cleared away my plates into the sink, feeling an intense case of the blahs. Blahblahblahblah. I thanked Grandma for my meal and headed up to my room again. I was surprised my phone had barely gotten wet in the sudden downpour, and I was even more surprised to find I had a text from Helga.

_ "I got a free ticket to the show. I don't remember if I told you about it. You do want me to hold it for you, right?"_

_ "Of course!"_

A beat later, then_ "Awesome. I'll reserve it for you on Thursday."_

_ "You don't have practice today?" I replied, my fingers skimming over the letters on my keypad._

_ "Naah. Teacher has a stomach virus, so we got the day off."_

I paused. "_You want to hang out maybe?" _I held my breath, waiting for a reply.

_ "Hang out how?"_

_ "I don't know, movie or something? Video games?"_

_"...Shouldn't that be stuff you ask Lila to do?"_

I frowned. _"Good point. I'll ask her instead."_

_"Well you two lovebirds have fun sucking face. I've got stuff to do." _

I blinked, surprised at the sudden change of tone in her messages. Okay then. I'd just ask Lila.

That idea proved to be for naught because she didn't have a car and the rain was too bad for her to try and walk. I offered to pick her, but she politely declined. She said she really needed to work on her projects, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to focus. She suggested doing something over the weekend maybe, and I agreed.

After that let-down, I decided to text Gerald. He agreed to play some multiplayer with me as long as the weather didn't cause a lag_._After the day I had, a little virtual fighting wouldn't be so bad.


	19. Graduate

Alright guys! Nearing the climax part of my story. From this point, all the drama mama...and such. ^^

I don't own Hey Arnold, awww :/

* * *

The next two and a half weeks or so seemed to make the memory of my bad day fade into the woodwork. It was the last slow day I seemed to have, everything suddenly seemed to pick up the pace as the last month of the school year loomed in the distance, now only a mere few weeks away. Honestly, there wasn't very much about those weeks that stood out, most of it just blurred together. I really don't remember what happened on what day, only that they did.

School proceeded on as usual, and whatever people assumed was going on with Helga and I became the last thing on everyone's mind. Posters for prom were starting to manifest themselves on every blank space of wall, though this had no real effect on me as a junior. Prom was just not on my list of top priorities – I'd worry about it next year. Besides, it was the same weekend as the banquet. I wasn't going to back out of that – though, I still hadn't mustered up the courage to ask Lila out yet. Murmurs of EOCT's and finals were swarming the halls, people knowing the cram sessions would be coming in as well as end of term projects. I was barely managing to stay on top of everything, what with having to register for what courses I'd be wanting to take as a senior and barely managing to stay on top of the classes I was taking now. Even Gerald was showing strain, which made it shocking when he merely poked and prodded at his tray during lunch. Not that I could blame him: I'd been gnawing on a chicken bone for about five minutes as I went back and highlighted my history notes.

"Are we supposed to know all the dates?" I mumbled, finally dropping the clean bone on my tray.

"I don't know. I don't even remember all the names. I get everyone confused," Gerald retorted halfheartedly, now resorting to just drawing shapes in the margin of his notes. "I mean seriously, only four more weeks of school left as a junior. Then we'll be in our last year of High School!"

"Gerald…"

"Then it's on to college, and then after that it's on to getting a real job!"

"Gerald…"

"Then there's marriage and mortgages and I'll end up like my dad, freaking out about the electricity bill and freaking out about some guy at work name Bob!"

"Gerald!" I said with a bit more force this time. "Calm down. Let's just finish this year first. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. So, you're really not going to come hang with us at the prom?" he asked, frowning.

"I told you, I'd already promised Helga I'd go to this banquet with her. Besides, I don't have a date."

"I thought if you didn't have a date, you didn't have to go to the banquet. That means you could totally go to prom!"

"That also would mean I wouldn't have a date to prom," I reminded him, shaking my head.

"Not if you ask someone besides Lila!" He wiggled his eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why would I ask someone besides Lila? The whole point was for me to get a date with Lila. Seriously, keep up here. You and Phoebe will have a great time."

"So when _are _you gonna ask Lila out?" he pressed, making me squirm. "Haven't you and Helga finished your 'lessons'?"

He was right, we had concluded our lessons on Monday actually, though we were still meeting after school today (Wednesday). She wouldn't tell me what for, only that we were. I really didn't mind it either way. I'd had all fifteen lessons by this point, and I'd done my best to implement them in my daily interactions with Lila. And by daily, I literally mean I had to use a lesson everyday as homework for Helga. I'd done the complimenting, the gift giving, attempted the physical signals, carried books, snooped for activities she liked – why, I'd even switched to a cologne she specifically said she really liked even though it had a weird earthy smell, like I'd been rolling out in a field or something. Helga said it smelled like a cow field in particular.

"Yes, we finished earlier this week. I'm going to ask Lila today. I really don't have much time left," I said with halfhearted enthusiasm, scared out of my mind at the thought of finally asking her. I'd had all the prep, done all the steps, and yet I had no courage. That hadn't been one of the lessons.

"So grow a pair." I looked up as Gerald finally started to dig into his now cold food. "And now would be a great chance, 'cause here she comes."

I almost choked on my soda, sputtering as I heard her voice behind me. "Hello Arnold!"

"Hi Li-" I had another brief sputtering cough. "Hi Lila."

"How is your studying going? I'm having ever so much trouble focusing on mine," she asked, nodding at my notebook. "A distraction might be nice."

Was that a hint, was I supposed to ask her? I looked at Gerald, who made jerking head motions toward her. I stood up from my chair, brushing my hands on my pants. "I know what you mean," I said, laughing nervously. Okay, I could do it. Just ask her. I could do this. One more deep breath. "Would you….maybe want to go out sometime soon then? Like, a date?" I had to will myself to not look down at the floor.

"Oh," she replied, her eyes widening. "I…yes. That sounds like it would be ever so much fun."

And somewhere in heaven the angels sang a halleluiah chorus. Amen, praise Jesus, Hail Mary. All that good stuff. I exhaled in relief. "Great! When would be a good time for you?"

"I'll actually be out of town this weekend with my dad, so would next Friday be okay? I'd say Saturday, but I already promised it to a woman I babysit for." She said in her sweet voice, and I just nodded eagerly.

"Sounds great! Where would you like to go?" I said, now just floating on air. Anything she was saying after this point was just magic.

"Nothing too big. I'll leave it up to you." She gave another smile, and I returned with what I knew had to be a dreamy face. The bell to single the end of lunch broke us from our moment, and we bid hasty goodbye before going to clean up out trays.

"Wow. Smooth," Gerald teased as he dumped his tray in the trash.

"It's a gift."

"You're a bold kid, Arnold."

* * *

"Put on the blindfold."

"Why do I-?"

"Just do it!" I didn't ask any more questions, slipping on the piece of fabric Helga had handed me as I entered her bedroom. I was well aware I would be getting no helpful answers whatsoever, so I kept my mouth shut as I felt her take hold of my wrist and start to lead me across her room. I heard a door open, which I could only assume was her closet. I couldn't remember any other doors in her room, and I knew we hadn't gone back to the door that led in.

"Watch your step," she instructed, and I felt her press my hands on something I hard. A moment of feeling around like a blind man revealed a small ladder.

"Why do you have a ladder in your closet?"

"Why are you asking so many questions? Climb it, stupid!"

"Say please," I teased, laughing as she dealt a playful blow to my arm. I hesitantly took a step up the ladder, feeling my stomach flop. "I don't feel comfortable doing this blindfolded…"

"Stop being such a weenie, it's a small ladder."

I sighed, hesitantly placing hand over hand as I climbed. Thankfully the ladder was small, and I found myself soon sitting on a soft pillow in what I assumed was the attic, though I was still blindfolded.

"Okay, you can take it off!" I finally heard Helga instruct, so I slipped it over my head. My eyes widened at the sight, mouth agape.

It wasn't a large attic, just enough room for us to sit on the pillows on the floor. It had been painted a relaxing shade of blue, with white Christmas lights strung around the room for a twinkling effect. A beanbag chair rested in the corner across from me, along with various books and writing utensils. The newest thing added to the room was a large cake on a TV table, with scraggly plaid lines drawn on it. Next to it was a rolled up piece of paper and a faded black graduation cap. Helga was standing by the table, and I noted she had very little head room.

"What do you do up here?" I blurted.

"Read. Write. Whatever the heck I want to do, bucko," she snapped, her cheeks tinting slightly as though the question embarrassed her.

"So what am I doing up here?"

"So maybe sometimes I use it for special occasions. I used to come up here all the time when I had problems, and it held some of my most prized possessions," she explained, tossing her pigtail over her shoulder as if to prove some point.

"Like what kind of stuff?"

"Stuff that's none of your business!" Helga retorted, focusing her attention to the cake. "Today we are here to celebrate the graduation of you, Arnold, from your lessons. You have stepped up from chauvinistic pig-" I shot her a dirty look "to an educated gentleman," she concluded with a teasing smile. "Capable of wooing all the ladies. As valedictorian of your class, come put on your cap and give a speech!"

I couldn't help but laugh as I made my way to the table, having to hunch slightly so as not to bump my head. She switched places with me, going to sit on my pillow. I had a bit of time trying to get the hat on, since one size fits all is a very relative term.

"What am I supposed to say?" I asked, crouching down to rest on my knees. She gestured with her hand for me to say something, anything. "Um, hi graduating class. Look, we made it this far. I get to sit in an attic with a borrowed graduation cap-" this time she shot me the dirty look -"but that's the beauty of it, I guess?" I laughed, rubbing my neck awkwardly. "Thanks, Helga, for taking the time to do all of this for me. It means a lot that you've taken two days of your week for, wow, two months to teach me all your witchy women voo-doo secrets. And it's not just about that, even. I mean, who'd of thought that by this point you'd become my closest friend –well, next to Gerald of course. And I just want to thank you for that again. You helped me accomplish something I wasn't sure I could, and…well, that's all I've got."

"Turn your tassel," she whispered, making the motion.

"Oh yeah," I muttered, moving the dusty tassel across the cap.

She clapped enthusiastically, grinning the whole time as though I had actually done something important. "I even made you a diploma," she said with joking smile, pointing to the paper on the table. I slipped the rubber band off, shaking my head as I unrolled the paper.

"Wow. I'll have to frame this," I teased, placing it off to the side where I had deposited the graduation cap. "So about the cake, do I get to eat that?"

"Just be patient, geeze," she commented, picking up the plastic shopping bag that was under the table. She handed me a paper plate, cutting me a piece from the cake.

"This is really good," I commented, holding my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't spew cake in her face. "You make it?"

"Well yeah, but it's just from a box," she said sheepishly, cutting a piece from herself. "I don't know how to bake. At least not from scratch anyway."

"Lila likes to bake homemade stuff all the time. Speaking of Lila, I asked her today and she said yes!" I looked to Helga, hoping to find her just as enthusiastic as I was.

"Great! I'm happy for you," she said, stabbing her fork into the cake ferociously. "So this means you'll be coming to the banquet, I suppose."

"I was going to come whether she said yes or not," I assured her, taking another bite of cake.

"You were? But that wasn't part of the deal!"

"So what? You kept up your end by teaching me. It's not like it would've have been your fault if she said no. So there."

"You remember it's this Friday. Of course, Prom is too. So really, if you two were going to Prom or something, I'd get it," she mumbled, more or less just scooting the cake around the plate by this point.

"Hey," I said gently, reaching out to give her hand a quick. "I'm going with you because I want to. I wasn't planning on going Prom anyway."

"Really?" her tone was disbelieving. "You'd rather spend the night at some boring banquet with me than go with your friends and your dream girl?" I noted the sarcastic tone at the end.

"Of course. Besides, I said I couldn't afford a tux. So this is like the next best thing, right?"

I laughed as she punched me in the arm again. "You still have to dress nice!"

"I'm wearing the stupid khakis. Because I look good in khakis," I continued to tease, finding her anger at this point a bit funny.

"I changed my mind, wear slacks! I bet slacks make you look like…like crap. And speaking of crap, whatever you do, please don't wear that poor excuse for cologne you wear for Lila." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Your old one smelled much better."

* * *

About an hour and a half later, I was on my way back home with some leftover cake in one hand, and my diploma in the other. Overall, it'd been a rather pleasant evening, in my opinion. The weather had even cooled down to a nice temperature, so I wasn't in danger of drowning in my own sweat and passing out from dehydration. A definite improvement.

I stepped aside as I opened the door to the boarding house, a myriad of animals stumbling around my feet. I don't even know where these cats kept coming from, but I was sure it was something to do with grandma. I shook my head, giving the little gray one that was standing half-in half-out a push with my shoe so I could shut the door behind me.

The house was surprisingly quiet, which didn't really bother me in the least. I continued my journey upstairs, depositing my cake on my desk next to my computer. I unfolded the diploma, making a mental note to find something to put in it so I didn't lose it. First things first. I pulled up a search page, typing in the name of the restaurant that had opened a few months back. I'd already decided this was where I wanted to take Lila for our date. It was supposed to be really nice, but also really busy. I wanted to go ahead and call and get it all set up in advance. No last minute surprises.

I found the number easily, punching it into my cell. I got an answer on the second ring, and I sighed inwardly. Success.

"Hi, I was wondering if you had any reservations open for next Friday?" I asked in my most mature voice. I hoped it came off that way, at least.

"Yes, sir, we do in fact. We have a seven o'clock opening and a six o'clock opening. Would either of these work for you?"

"The six, please."

"Very good. How many will be in your party, and what name should I list it under?"

"Two, and just under Arnold is fine. Thanks so much!"

"Not a problem!"

I hung up, smile plastered to my face. That went well. Perfect. I grabbed a pen from the cup on my desk, making my way to the calendar to mark the time down. My hand froze as I looked at the date, and my head started to spin as it worked out what I had just done.

I'd scheduled my date on the night of Helga's show. But my date was at six, and the show didn't start till seven. If we could possibly get done by 6:40, I'd have just enough time to get there before it started. I could have both.

Right?


	20. Coin toss

Okay, this chapter is double in length. But I've had this in my mind for a long time.

Now let me explain somethings. I've put a lot of my thoughts at the end of this chapter, so if you want a link to see Helga's dress, a link to a great piece of fanart done for this chapter, links to the songs and such, then that's where you'll find it.

Also, you'll find this symbol (*) twice in the story. Each time you see it, this is where I recommend hitting play. Depending on your reading pace, it's going to end at a different point for each person. So if you want to hear the song as you read, that's where you need to do it.

* * *

"Okay, so you really think you can pull this off?" Gerald was saying, his voice filtering in through my headset, which I had lazily moved down to sit around my neck as opposed to fitting it on my ear. "Dude, cover me!"

"Well, yeah. I thought I could. I thought I made that obvious when I told you about it," I retorted, lifting my mike to my mouth after picking off the guy that was attempting to pick off Gerald's character.

"You're an idiot. Seriously. Let's break it down! Hold on." Brief pause for Gerald to get a few more good shots that required concentration.

"Nooooo, I want to just have solid faith in my plan," I whined back.

"Your plan is stupid. See, break it down! So six, right? So you go sit down, have a little small talk after the waiter drops off your menu and comes back with drinks. So this takes what, six minutes? So then Lila won't know what she wants because she hasn't been there and the waiter will wait about what, five, ten minutes to come back? So by this point you're twenty minutes in about and have only just ordered food!"

"I get it," I grumbled, but he pressed on relentlessly.

"So! Food takes maybe ten minutes, and we're thirty minutes in by this point. Unless you can eat and drive your lady home in ten minutes, you're screwed. Not to mention you'd be screwed with Lila for cutting the date short. You can do one or the other. So why don't you just take Lila to see Helga's show, then go eat afterward?"

"No! I can't do that," I muttered.

"Why not?"

"Because….because the show is something between Helga and me, you know?" I tried to explain, shrugging helplessly. "I don't want to drag Lila to it."

"Arnold, you do realize you're treating this like you're dating both of them? Helga isn't your girlfriend. And Lila certainly won't be if you start off like this," he advised me.

I sighed heavily, dropping my controller as my character got plowed down. "I just don't want to mix Helga and Lila. I want them separate."

"You can't go on like this buddy," Gerald said with a bit more sympathy. "If you start dating one, the other will become involved."

"Start dating Lila you mean," I corrected as I stood up, stretching my arms over my head as I walked across my room.

"I stand by my statement of 'one'."

I didn't bother to reply as I shut off my system. Leave it to Gerald to ruin a good game of Mass Effect.

* * *

Thursday classes left little time for much else, our teachers cramming us with two days of work since the teachers were well aware that plenty of females would be skipping Friday for prom preparations. Usually this never effected my classes, but since I was 'of age' this go around, I had to press through the day and try not to drown in a sea of estrogen and talk of how many possible versions of dresses there were. I would actually be grateful when lunch was over so I wouldn't have to hear the extremely loud chatter Rhonda was making. I was glad she'd found the perfect pair of red kitten heels that matched her designer dress and would make her a hit, I really was. But the fifth time it came my way, I was almost ready to wish the stupid heels would grow a pair of legs and run off into the distance and she'd be forced to find something else to talk about.

"You okay over there?" Gerald asked as he forked in a mouthful of spaghetti.

"No, I think Rhonda and I have the same dress picked out for the prom and I'll never live down the shame!" I wailed in a high pitched voice, immediately feeling guilty as Rhonda shot me rather dirty look across the room. I shoved potatoes in my mouth as I looked down at the table, feeling a surge of guilt that was amplified by Gerald's robust laugh.

"Hi Arnold, Gerald. Would it be alright if we finished our lunch with you two? I'd like to talk with Gerald about tomorrow's events."

"Sure," I replied, noting that Gerald's laugh had died out as though he'd forgotten how to breathe. I caught the knowing smile on Helga's face as she plopped down in the seat to my right, Phoebe taking the one to my left and filling up the seats at the small circular table.

"Phoebe is actually going to skip tomorrow to get the works. Little Miss Perfect attendance over here!" Helga teased as she opened her Jell-O cup.

"I was absent in December with the Flu, so I figure I can't claim the title this year. Plus, there is very little work to be missed since the teachers seem to expect all the absences. Not to mention, it's an experience most girls our age seem to really enjoy, and I would like to have something to base an assumption on."

"Phoebe just wants to skip," Helga added, leaning on her fist as she poked at the leftover food on her plate.

"Helga is going to accompany me in the excursions," Phoebe added, holding her chin up high as though she were offended Helga seemed to think she genuinely wanted to stay out of school for frivolous things. "So she'll have the experience to share as well."

"Why are you going?" I asked, looking over at Helga in confusion.

"Cause it's practically an invitation for girls to miss school," she explained as through it were obvious. "The teachers expect it! Besides, I figure I can get my hair and all done by someone who legity knows how to use a brush so I look like I kind of care," she added with a nonchalant shrug before resorting to picking at her fingernails awkwardly. "I mean, it's no big deal if I'm fancy or anything, I just didn't want Phoebe to go alone, ya know?"

"I'm not judging you," I said with a laugh, holding my hands up in a gesture of surrender in case she decided to punch me in the face or something to prove a point. "Just asking."

She rolled her eyes at me, her lips twitching into a small smile. We both looked over at Gerald and Phoebe, who had succeeded in seeming to forget that there was anyone else in the room but themselves. I shook my head, looking back over at Helga. "They'll have fun tomorrow night, I'm sure."

Helga nodded. "It's all Phoebe's been talking about. She'd been waiting forever for Geraldo to ask her on a date….But don't say anything, I wasn't supposed to tell that," she added in a rush, glancing over to make sure Phoebe hadn't paid any attention to her statement.

"Secret's safe with me," I chuckled, pulling back the seal of my pudding cup. Helga's eyes widened hungrily.

"No way, they had pudding?"

"Yeah….you want some?" I asked hesitantly, holding the cup out. She didn't need any more prompting, plopping her spoon in eagerly. We spent the rest of the lunch period picking over the remnants of each other's food as our prom bound companions finalized their evening plans.

* * *

When the final bell rang after school, I was glad I wouldn't have to hear any more talk of preparations and dresses the rest of the weekend. I rarely spent time on Facebook anyway, so I'd have no problem steering clear of it and its explosion of pictures when Saturday morning rolled around.

I sighed as I dropped my bag on the floor by my bedroom door, actually debating if _I _even wanted to show up for school tomorrow. But of course, my conscience reminded me that I had no real excuse, and what if I ended up needing that day for a real sickness in the future? I waved my hands in the air, clearing away the imaginary thought bubble that was trying to crush my face. I'd go to school, catch up on work.

My phone buzzed loudly on the desk beside me, and I sat down in my computer chair as I picked it up. It was from Helga, of course.

"_The man next to me on the bus is wearing stilettos….STILETTOS. I can't even wear stilettos!"_

"_What kind of bus are you riding?"_ I replied with a cringe, yet wanting to laugh at the same time. I hit the power button on my laptop, spinning in my chair as I waited for it to boot up.

"_Obviously the wrong one…. It's like Rocky Horror Picture show up in here!"_

"…_What's that?"_

"_I'll just have to show you…it's much better that way. ;D"_

"…_seriously?" _I opened up a browser tab.

"_Future date." _There was a beat before my phone buzzed again. _"Not like _date _date, I meant like a day in the future."_

"_I knoooooooooow," _I keyed in, shaking my head at the fact she felt the need to make sure I knew that. I pulled up a search page, looking up a few techniques that would help me to double the shelf space in the storage room. I needed money for my date, so grandpa had agreed to pay me some extra bucks if I did a few chores outside of the realm of my usual. So I'd get my normal allowance (which consisted of money for gas and school lunch, with just enough thrown in for a movie or two) plus a $5 bonus for every hour I spent on extra chores he assigned. So I had to put some new shelves in to get all the junk off the floor. I could wield a hammer like a knight could wield a sword.

"_Just checking. Don't want you getting wrong ideas buster. Anyway, could we take your truck tomorrow? Bob and Miriam say we can ride with them, but I'd love an extra vehicle to escape when I want. Plus, it forces one of them to stay sober for the night_."

"_Sure. What time, and where is this thing again? Do I need money? I have no money."_

"_Well gee, then what good are you?"_

"_I always have my charm, oozing from every pore on my body."_

"…_ew. Just pick me up seven, okay? The place is about an hour away, and we'll just follow them. Dress nice. I'm at the studio, so ttyl. I'll reserve your ticket today too! You're so lucky. Don't worry with a reply, I won't be able to read it."_

I groaned as I read her message, remembering Gerald's earlier warning. I was going to have to cut one short… Grandpa's face seemed to loom over me, his earlier advice about not getting myself into a situation where I would have to choose like this…..I was going to end up hurting someone! Then Helga's harsh words pushed their way to the front, reminding me my actions of not saying 'no' to people caused issues like this. I would hurt people by trying to please everyone. Jesus, why was all that advice suddenly relevant now that I had a date with Lila!? Why couldn't it wait to be relevant when I was seventy-five and having to choose between the oatmeal or prune juice? I slammed my head onto the desk, groaning. I needed to go find my hammer and hit something. I drug myself away from the desk, wondering if I could break my leg or something if I just happened to trip down the stairs. Then I could be free from both obligations and have time to re-plan my…well, my plan of action here.

"Oh Arnold, why the long face?"

I looked up, surprised to find Oskar slinking down the hall with a bulky paper sack in his hands.

"Just a lot of stuff going on, no big deal," I shrugged, eying the bag curiously. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh, nothing. It's, uh, it's just some things for Suzie." I shook my head and he jiggled the door open, disappearing inside.

"Grandpa, Oskar's acting weird," I advised, sliding into the kitchen. Grandpa looked up from his paper, frowning.

"Darn Oskar. What you up to today, Shortman?" he asked as I pulled my small carpenter's belt from under the sink. I'd seen grandma with it a few days before, though for what I had no clue.

"I'm going to work on the shelves today since I'll be gone tomorrow night with Helga. I figure Saturday I'll do the outside list and work from there," I explained, fastening it around my waist and poking around to make sure all the nails and such were still in place.

"So, did you work it out between her and your other lady?" he asked casually, though I was used to the grin he was giving me.

"No," I admitted. "I have gotten myself into a dilemma, and I think I'll do the mature thing and go distract myself with manly activities."

I shook my head, hearing his laughter trailing after me as I ran down the hall.

* * *

"So what'd you work out to do?" Gerald asked as I turned the phone on speaker, placing it on my desk.

"Well, as I was pounding away at inanimate objects to alleviate my frustrations, I came to this conclusion." I paused.

"And what's that?"

"I am extremely indecisive."

"Arnold!" Gerald scolded loudly, and I flinched. Oww. "Let me give you some facts on this situation here, okay? And don't be offended."

"Are you going to try to offend me?"

"Shut up. Look. You've spent the last two months trying to get this date with Lila. If you decide pushing the date back due to Helga, then maybe Lila's not the one you should be pursuing…"

"Gerald, I don't-!" I began to protest hotly, only to be cut off just as quick.

"I know, I know! So if it's Lila you're really interested in, then that's what you need to focus on. If you want to have a relationship with her, it can't be three's company or something. It can't be based around your 'Helga time.'" I frowned. "So you're going to have to pick one or the other, and here's my last thing on the subject. Lila agreed to a date. You know at least that she has feelings for you, and that you have them for her. You don't know how you feel about Helga." I started to protest once more, but he plowed over my attempts to speak like a steamroller. "And as far as you know, she only sees you as a friend. What about that David guy you mentioned? Do you want to give up what you know could be a relationship for just a friendship? And especially a friendship that may put you being the third wheel…. Okay, you can speak now."

"Gerald, this…is really hard. I don't have feeling for Helga like…well, like that. But I want to be at her show…and I want this date with Lila. How do I decide?"

"Flip a coin," he suggested, and I could almost hear the shrug in his voice.

"Why flip a coin? What if I don't like what it picks?" I asked lamely.

"That's the point. When you flip that coin, you'll know what side you want it to land on. And no matter what side the coin lands on, you'll still know what you wanted it to be. Hey, I gotta go. Mom's calling me for supper. Let me know, okay?" I heard his line click off, and I sighed.

I took a coin from the handful of change I had deposited in the change jar on my desk. I twirled it for a moment, staring at the two sides. When it was in the air, I'd know which one I'd want. I'd know where I wanted to go. I'd know _who_ I wanted. And that was a very scary question, so I stowed the coin away in my pocket for when I finally had the courage to flip it.

* * *

I did go to school on Friday, and it was an upperclassman sausage fest, for lack of a better term. There was not a single female to be found (almost) and our teachers pretty much gave us free reign to work on what we needed to catch up on. Overall, my school day was rather boring. I worked on a few of my writing prompts, still clueless as to what to write for the fairy tale prompt I had agreed to do with Helga. Later date.

When I got home, I immediately set to work on washing my black pants and ironing my dress shirt. I'd fished my tie from the depths of my closet, but I wasn't sure if I could wash a tie (can you? How? It just looks delicate) –so I drenched it in febreeze and tossed it into the dryer. No one washed stuff until later in the day, so I had the laundry room mostly to myself. It took a bit of time to wash and move my clothes around, and I figured I might as well do the rest of my laundry while I was at it. I lounged around the room, putting my headphones in and pretending like I knew how to dance as the clothes rolled around.

I heard a ding, popping one of my earbuds out and collecting my clothes. I made sure to remove all the lint rather than suffer the curse of having it shoved it my face later. I figured I didn't really care if my pants were pressed, so I just dropped them on the top of the pile and headed upstairs. The clock in my room read 4:30 by this point, so I had just enough time to get in a shower before most of the boarders started to get in from work. Thankfully, as a male, a quick shower is a very easy thing. I relish my body hair (which I have very little of, darn it) and I don't have to go about the make-up and such as females do. So I was out before five and sort of wondering around my room as I tried to figure out what to do with these few hours before I had to get ready. I practically pounced on my phone when it rang, grateful for this distraction.

"Sup hair boy, how's it going?"

"Fine, fine. And you?" I said in an exaggerated manner, hearing her laugh through the phone.

"I'm fine. So listen, don't forget to be on time. This thing could last a while, and there will be food, but mostly finger stuff. So if you want to smuggle in a hamburger or something, I'm not complaining. Anyway, see you in a few hours. Don't forget. Seven!"

"See you at Seven," I replied with a grin, clicking off.

And see her at seven I did, though it was certainly not any Helga I had ever expected to see. I had knocked, Bob opening the door and giving me a brisk greeting before telling me to wait in the landing. I saw Miriam, looking thankfully sober, as she darted across the living room with her shoes in hand.

"Come on Miriam, we need to get in the car!"

"I'm coming Bob! I just need to get my purse!"

I rolled my eyes, my focus suddenly zoned in as Helga made her descent down the staircase. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it hadn't been this. She was wearing a simple eggplant colored dress, with a ruffled neckline and sleeves, a compliment to her skin. The top was fitted to her chest and showed off her slender waist before becoming a more flowing, soft skirt. It went to just below her knees, swishing gently as she made her way down. And although the dress was astounding on her in all its modestly, her face was the focus, gorgeous through the simple make up. I figured that was something she had done with Phoebe, along with her hair, which was a mass of loose curls piled atop her head. A few curls fell loose around her shoulders, bouncing gently with each step.

"Arnold?"

"What, what?" I babbled, shaking my head to clear my mind. Did I miss something?

"I said let's go," she said, looking at me curiously. I just nodded, holding the door open for her as she headed down the steps.

"Now you kids follow straight behind us. Helga knows where we're going, so if you get off track, plug it into the gps. I know she has one on her phone," Miriam was instructing as she slid into the car in front of us. Helga called an affirmative before jumping up in the cab beside me. I shook my head, just unable to get over this version of Helga.

"So basically we're going to this gigantic hotel," she was explaining as I pulled out in the road, following the car. "There's always a ginormous amount of people, about 1/3 investors, 1/3 makers, and the last 1/3 being the business owners. So basically, it's just a big fancy business party. We've gone to this thing for years, so I don't see why this year would be much different."

"Sounds fun," I replied with mock enthusiasm, and I was prepared for the punch that came to my arm.

"Shut up. Um, you look nice, by the way," she said in a somewhat embarrassed tone. I looked down at my simple outfit, consisting of black pants, white long sleeved dress shirt and black tie. Nothing fancy.

"Well I'll just fade into the wall next to you," I complimented sincerely. "You look beautiful."

"Aww, I'm nothing special. You should have seen Phoebe, she looked absolutely stunning. She sent me a picture," she said with a shrug. "I know she's going to knock Geraldo dead."

I laughed. "No doubt. I'm sure I'll hear all about it as the night goes on."

She nodded, smiling. "Oh yeah. We both will."

As we continued to ride, we finally slipped into our familiar and comfortable banter. We arrived at the building, a large hotel that looked like I'd have to work an entire year to pay to even get a room in it. I parked the truck, running around to help Helga out. As we walked toward the large building, following Miriam and Bob, Helga shook her head.

"Just smile and nod, but don't worry about talking. Everyone knows we aren't here to buy anything, so they'll leave us alone. Oh look, snack table! Yes!" She grabbed my hand, pulling me along behind her as she weaved through the stagnant crowd.

"Some party," I commented, noting the rather bored look on the DJ's face as classical music drifted through the air. Helga frowned.

"Aww, I was actually excited about a DJ this year. I thought that meant we'd actually get dance music." She crammed a finger sandwich in her mouth, holding one out to me. I popped in my own mouth, staring at the very empty dance floor. This was going to take a long time.

Helga and I spent the next hour or so milling around the food table, filling tiny paper plates and bringing them back to our table. There were lots of small round tables on the outskirts of the room, and people were flocking to them like flies.

"I wish somebody would start dancing. I don't want to be the first one to go out," she admitted, bouncing her legs as she sat. "But he'd have to play something good first. I can't stand this for another two hours. At least last year, they had a chocolate fountain. And trust me, a chocolate fountain is very entertaining."

"Do you want me to go dance?" I offered nervously, smiling. I was horrendous dancer, in my own personal opinion. But if it would make her happy, I'd suck it up. I didn't know anyone here, and there was a slim chance it'd get back to anyone I knew.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh totally. Let's go get our groove on to Beethoven," she said with a forced laugh.

"Be right back," I said, pushing back my chair.

"Where you going?" she asked curiously.

"Bathroom," I said with a shrug. Considering how nervous this was making me feel, there was no guarantee that would be a lie. I weaved through the thick crowd, murmuring excuse me's as I made my way to the DJ.

"Hey," I said just loudly enough to get his attention.

"Sup?" he said, looking over at me with a bored expression.

"You take requests?" I said, giving a nervous grin.

(*)

A moment later I was slowly making my way to the dance floor with a borrowed black fedora as the music from my phone (plugged into an auxiliary cable) started to flood the room. A soft murmur went up, and I swear to God I almost fainted. I dared a glance back at the DJ, who gave me an excited smile and thumbs up.

I do not dance, have I said that? So there was only one thing I knew that I could do to make this work. This place was just going to have to become my laundry room. I took a deep breath, taking a place in the center of the floor. I wasn't going to dare to locate Helga just yet, afraid her face would just reduce me to a puddle of embarrassment.

First tactic was a bit of heel tapping to get into the rhythm, which was easy enough. A tap here, tap here. Shoulder jerks followed next with a bit of swaying, and then the chorus started. I did my best Michael Jackson hat trick (including a spin here) in time with the music, which I thankfully pulled off. A small smattering of applause helped to cool my nerves.

I finally felt like I could locate Helga, and she was looking at me with an expression I was not willing to interpret. I gestured for her to come out with me, figuring might as well be a fool with her. She needed no more prompting, spinning out onto the floor with all the grace of the ballet dancer she was. I laughed, taking her hand as she got close enough, picking her up at the waist and spinning her. We laughed through the rest of the chorus as we flailed rather awkwardly, stepping in to meet as the second verse started. I immediately began a tango like step to the music, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise for just a moment before narrowing her eyes mischievously. I didn't know whether to be scared of to give the look right back. As the chorus repeated, she plucked the borrowed hat from my head, proceeding to show everyone just how good of a dancer she was with the aid of her hat. I applauded along with everyone else, still laughing when she pranced back by to take me by the tie and lead me behind her. I shrugged and followed, trying to keep in time with whatever steps seemed to suit her. She would switch on a whim, and I would spend an awkward moment or so flailing to try and pick up the steps.

By this point, a lot of the other people seemed to decide they wanted to join the dance as well, and we soon found ourselves crunched in on the dance floor. I laughed, pulling Helga through the crowd toward the DJ.

"Awesome moves!" he complimented, holding his hand up for a high five. I grinned, obliging.

"Thanks for the hat," I said, taking it from Helga's head and handing it back. "Feel free to keep my phone for a while. I'll get it from you later tonight."

He nodded, and Helga and I squeezed through the sudden surge of dancers. A set of glass doors leading to a balcony were to our left, and we slipped out, closing the door behind us. The sound of the music dulled immediately, and we continued to laugh as we tried to catch our breath.

"I can't believe you did that!" she cried, holding her sides as she caught her breath.

"You wanted to dance," I explained, pushing my hair back from my face. "So I got you to dance."

She turned to smile at me, and I found myself having to look away.

"Hey, so that's where the piano went," Helga mused, pointing to a small upright piano that had pushed out onto the balcony. "I was wondering what they had done with it."

She walked over, exposing the keys and hesitantly pressing one. "Hey, come play for me," she said, looking over her shoulder at me.

"How'd you know I played piano?" I asked, curious. She immediately pursed her lips as she looked away, shrugging, blushing slightly.

"Ya know, I just heard rumors. No biggie. Come on, wow me with your skills!"

"Hahha no. I will not-hey!" I yelped as she jerked me over to bench and pushed me down. I rarely played piano for anyone but my grandma, not wanting to boast about it. I'd learned on the grand piano grandma had had for a short period of time, and I'd gotten a keyboard a Christmas later. Of course my Keyboard was stored away under my bed at this moment, do to things like this.

I grumbled a bit nervously as I adjusted, rolling my sleeves up to my elbows as I prepared. I dared a glance into the room nearby, watching as people started to pick up their dancing in the room beside us. I figured if the music had been dulled by the door, so would the piano.

"What am I supposed to play?" I asked, looking over at her as she took a seat beside me.

"Whatever you want," she said with a shrug, brushing one of the loose curls back behind her ear. There was a full moon out, and it was doing nothing to hurt how beautiful she already looked. I snapped my attention back to the piano instantly.

"I'll play for you, if you dance for me," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. For some reason, I wanted her to stop being so close to me.

"Well, okay," she said skeptically. "But you better not be expecting some sexy dance…"

"No!" I blurted, almost choking in my laughter. "No, no, no. Just to my music."

"Okay," she agreed again, pulling off the strappy silver heels she had worn. She went and stood to the side of the piano, waiting. "But, you have to sing too."

"I don't want to sing!" I squeaked, suddenly feeling embarrassed again. This was going to be like the ninth grade talent show all over again.

"For me?" she teased gently, and I sighed in defeat, placing my fingers over the keys.

(*)

My fingers found their way along the keys naturally, the song I had played last coming to life again. I took a nervous breath, singing the words quietly as I glanced over to watch her dance.

It was amazing how she could just become someone and something completely different as she moved to the music, her eyes closed as she allowed her body to mold and bend at will. I felt like this was something very intimate, watching her dance this way. She'd pause every few moments to gauge the music before getting caught in the swell of the piano.

I found I didn't mind singing for Helga. I'd sing for her anytime she wanted me to, and I'd play piano if she wanted me to. I'd dance whenever she wanted me to, and I'd do anything she asked me to. There was nothing sexual to this feeling, just emotional. I felt something I had never felt surge in me, and I had to do something to break this thought pattern.

Instead of continuing the piano with a bridge, I stumbled up from the bench, continuing to sing as I took her by the waist, inserting myself into the dance. Her eyes shot open, but she laughed, obliging my silly need to dance along with her. She closed her eyes once more as I spun her out, and as she came back in I dipped her dramatically.

And that was it. That was it, all it took. Somehow in this moment of dancing, I had managed to flip some invisible coin.

It was _her._

And I had never been so scared about anything else in my life.

* * *

Helga's dress can be found my googling: 2013 Allure Bridesmaid - Eggplant Chiffon Cap Sleeve Short Bridesmaid Dress

Fanart link by Aaerowyn on deviantart at : art/Waltz-375647763

Song for the first (*) is Love Somebody by Maroon five at watch?v=SmZCbSrSpl8

Arnold's piano song at the second (*) is Heart of Stone by Hunter Parrish: watch?v=PqKxHtCFWD8

For those wanting an image to base David on, I did a super sketchy on on my art/David-375811954


	21. Slip of the Tonque

THANKS SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR LAST CHAPTER REVIEWS! *squee* Though I have horrendous typos I need to go back and fix in it. As per last time, I moved the rest of the story notes to the end of this chapter so you can ponder them after reading.

Love you guys! seriously.

* * *

I'm not sure how I ended up in makeshift jogging clothes at Gerald's house at 3:30 in the morning on a Saturday, but I did. He was going to regret telling me where they kept the spare key.

"What the-? Arnold, man, what're you doing in my house? What time is it?" he mumbled, bolting up and peering around groggily.

"Oh you know, just 3:30 in the morning. Great time to go jogging. You wanna go jogging? Yeah ya do!" I chirped in a chipper tone, throwing some clothes over at him that were in a stack on the floor. I didn't know if they were clean, nor did I really care.

"Arnold, I don't understand…" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands.

"What's not to understand? It's 3:30 in the morning, I think I may have feelings for Helga, I want to go jogging. Is the donut shop open at 3:30?" I was babbling, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I needed to be moving. Move move move move. On the move here.

"What was that middle part?" he inquired, suddenly snapping to attention.

"Jogging?"

"The other part…."

"Oh. Oh yeah. Yeah, see, the thing is…I think I have feeling for Helga," I chirped in my sing song voice, rummaging through the trophies on his shelf. "Yep. Go figure right?" I turned to give him a large smile.

It must have been frightening. He responded with complete seriousness, "Let me get dressed…"

Thirty minutes later and we were attempting to keep some sort of running pace as we went around the block. Neither of us had ever been avid joggers, but I needed something to tire me out. I hadn't slept at all since getting back home.

"What happened?" Gerald panted as we paused outside of the boarding house, gasping. I sank down to the steps, all my previous chipperness having evaporated with my sweat.

"I flipped your stupid coin," I snapped as I covered my face with hands. Stupid invisible coin. Stupid piano. Stupid dance.

"I thought you'd be happier about this," Gerald responded, sitting down heavily beside me. "You finally made the decision."

"Oh, you think I'm happy? You think I'm okay with this!?" I retorted darkly. "I am NOT okay with this. This…this _thing_ is not okay!"

"Arnold, man, just chill out. You've worked it out, haven't you? So just tell Lila…"

"And tell her what? Sorry Lila, I know I've been buzzing around you for months and you finally started to return feelings of interest. But hey, I've changed my mind. I like someone else!" I spun around to now address my imaginary Helga. "Oh hey Helga! It's a possibility that I have may have feelings outside the parameter of our friendship. Oh, what's that? You and David, you say? You mean the guy I deliberately asked you if had feelings for and you never denied it? Oh. Oh that guy!" I turned to glare at Gerald with the intent to kill, which he attempted to thwart with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, yeah. I shouldn't have said that yesterday…" he admitted, shrugging helplessly.

"You know what, all this help of yours put me here!" I accused, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back against the stairs, frowning. It was his stupid coin theory.

"I want you to think about who got out of bed at 3:30 this morning to go jogging with you because you were having issues," he snapped back, frowning at me.

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "I'm sorry Gerald, you're right. It's just…I thought this would solve my dilemma, but it only makes this more complicated. I still don't want to hurt Lila. I also don't want to bring this up to Helga only to have her shoot me down, and then I just end up without either one." I scuffed my shoe against the concrete. "So, got any more bright ideas?"

"Maybe you should turn over a new leaf all together. Try out the homosexual lifestyle!"

"…..I hate you, did you know that? Sometimes I reaaally do." Gerald ignored my statement, considering he was too busy laughing hysterically. "I'm going inside," I grumbled, pushing myself up and heading inside the boarding house. "If you can calm down long enough to come in, you're welcome to it."

"Oh lighten up," he responded, following me up to my room. I sighed, falling down on my bed heavily. I waited as he made a beeline for the closet, digging out the pillow and sleeping bag he always used. He spread them out on the floor, falling down onto it heavily as I had.

"So, how was the prom?" I asked cautiously, drumming my fingers on my stomach. I knew he'd sent me a few messages throughout the night, but I'd honestly been too distracted to focus on any of them properly.

"It was fun," he replied, and I glanced over to see him looking pretty pleased with himself. "I mean, it would have been great if you had come along. Phoebe looked just…just wow!"

"So I heard," I replied with a laugh. This branch if the conversation was much less complicated to ponder through, and before too long we found our exhaustion catching up to us. I slept like a rock and don't remember if I dreamt or not, though I'm sure if I did, it would have been of the dance.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of rain beating mercilessly against the glass panes of my ceiling, and I couldn't suppress a groan as I rolled over to hide my face in the pillow. I wondered if this was some ominous sign that I was in too deep in this entire situation. I took in one last shuddering breath before sitting up, swinging my legs off the edge of my bed. I am certainly no longer a regular jogger, and my legs reminded me of this with the soreness that shot through them unceremoniously.

I took in a sharp intake of breath, falling back on the bed with a groan. Maybe I should just crawl back into the bed and hide from the rest of the world. I didn't know what to do with myself anyway. If I slid back under the covers and hid for the next week, I could just wait out my dilemma.

But of course, I had still promised to take on the list of chores today, and that was something I wouldn't back out of – date or no date. I knew grandpa had been counting on me to do them, and I figured the extra money would come in handy either way.

"Hey, I'm going downstairs. Feel free to come down whenever, or just let yourself out," I said with a half yawn as I nudged Gerald with my foot. He mumbled an inaudible reply, rolling over to bury his face farther down into the pillows. I shook my head, pulling my rattiest pair of jeans from the closest along with an old paint stained t-shirt I had used on various occasions…for painting, of course. I shrugged out of my gym clothes and quickly slipped into my work clothes, figuring I'd take a shower later. I was already dirty. No point in getting clean to just to walk into a dusty closet and get dirty all over again.

And so, I proceeded downstairs to perform the chores on my list. Gerald stuck around to help do a few, but slipped out when the rain was slack enough for him to not drown himself in the run home. We'd worked on the cracks in the shower, replaced a broken window, vacuumed and dusted the living area, plus tried to not get electrocuted as we worked on some of the lights in some of the empty rooms. So now all that was left on my list for me to complete for today (that I could- can't very well do anything outside in the weather) was to tackle the task of cleaning up my own bedroom. I trudged up the stairs, my legs feeling ten times heavier than they had earlier. A hot shower was definitely the next thing to do after I finished all my cleaning.

It didn't take long to make progress on my room, considering I'd washed all my clothes yesterday. I changed the sheets, vacuumed, and completed a few other mundane tasks before sitting down on the sofa to fold my laundry. I was about halfway through my folding when a violent knock came on the door. It burst open before I could even open my mouth.

"Come in?" I said, my voice hesitant as I shrunk under the piercing gaze Helga threw at me. The brief rush I had had upon seeing her morphed into worry. She was soaking wet from the rain, her hair plastered in a disheveled mess around her flushed face. I assumed she had been running, but I wasn't positive.

"I bet you think you're clever, don't you?" she said in a measured voice, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, on occasion I like to think I can be," I babbled, pulling the shirt in my hands close to my chest as though it were a shield. I had a weird feeling that something was wrong, though I couldn't pinpoint what it might be yet.

"Shut up, that was rhetorical!" Helga snapped in a harsher voice this time, her fist clenching at her sides tightly. Water was dripping down to make a small puddle on my carpet, but even I knew it was a bad time to bring up the spot. I kneaded the shirt in my fingers.

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Oh you don't know. You don't know," she interrupted with a loud voice, and by this point her fists were starting to tremble under the strain.

"Helga, sit down. Calm down and tell me what's wrong. And….and I've got something to tell you as well," I admitted, standing up and clearing a space on the couch. Might as well do this now.

I don't know what I was expecting, honestly, but it was not a slap across the face. And not one with enough force to make me stumble back onto the couch.

"What was that for?" I asked in utter confusion, bringing my hand to my cheek. It stung like I'd been hit by someone twice her size.

"So now you're going to tell me, huh? Well how about this, I already know!" she snarled, her voice now sounding a bit hysterical. Either I was crazy, or she was starting to cry. Was it that bad? Was she that repulsed by me that the thought of me having feelings for her made her want to hit me?

"How? Who said anything?" I asked, still gingerly rubbing my throbbing cheek. I hadn't told anyone but Gerald, and he wouldn't tell.

"That's all you're going to say about it? 'Who said anything?' The real question here is why you weren't the one to tell me!" She jabbed her finger so close to my face, I went cross eyed for a minute trying to focus.

"I was going to! In fact, I was just about to!"

"Well I had to hear it through the grapevine, so to speak. How's that supposed to make me feel? And I honestly believed you might- ugh! Nonetheless, I heard it from Rhonda this morning."

"How would Rhonda know?" I wailed, suddenly thinking that maybe we weren't on the same page after all. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing here!"

"What we're talking about is the fact you lied to me! You said you weren't going to abandon me after you got this date with Lila. And what do you go and do? You schedule your damn date on the date of my show, knowing I was reserving a seat for you! Knowing I was expecting you to be there! Knowing how…how important this is for me!" She was definitely crying by this point. I wanted to just sink into the couch I felt so awful. Not to mention she had it all wrong. I started to open my mouth to protest, but she plowed on. "And then I overhear it from Rhonda this morning as she and Lila were talking about it. I almost didn't believe them, thinking I had misheard the date. But no, I walked over and asked her. Of all the days you could have picked. Or maybe if you had even been the one to tell me. What, was it funny to you? Were you just not going to show up? Was it going to be some joke? Oh, like Helga thought I'd seriously want to see her after all of this!" There was more tears on her face now than raindrops, her eyes starting to look puffy. She took in a shaky breath, rubbing her hand over nose. "Whatever."

"It's not like that, okay?" I retorted sharply, shaking my head furiously. I wanted so badly to wipe the tears away and make this okay.

"Well how about we break it down, okay? When did you know about the date?"

"Wednesday," I said slowly, cocking my head in confusion.

"And I texted you Thursday to tell you I was reserving your ticket," she pressed.

"You did, yes."

"And at that point did you know you had scheduled the date on the same day?"

"I just-"

"Answer me!"

"Yes," I said lamely, and as soon as the word left my mouth I wanted to take it back. Her face fell as though I had physically hit her.

"So you did know." It was soft and full of more pain than I had ever heard from her. It was at that moment I realized a little too late that she was wanting for me to say I hadn't known. That I really didn't know I had scheduled them on the same day. That it was a lie.

"No, just let me explain!" I said, nervously brushing the hair back from where it had fallen in my face. But how was I going to explain? This was not the ideal situation for telling someone you have feelings or them. "I just –look, I thought I might be able to go to both."

"Have both? You wanted to have both?" She laughed incredulously. "Seriously Arnold? That is the most…. You haven't outgrown that?"

"Outgrown it? What do you mean?" I asked back, frowning.

"Forget it. Well you don't get to have both. You wanted Lila, so you get Lila. Don't you so much as dare to set in foot anywhere near me on Friday. Or, ya know, any other day for that matter. Just leave me alone!" She stomped her foot angrily, making a shower of raindrops fall from the tips of her hair and her clothes.

"Why won't you listen to me?" I pleaded, begging her to look at me as she turned away from me. I could take harsh words fine, but I could not take her ignoring me. I would not let her cut me out like this.

"There is nothing left for you to say! I knew this was going to happen! I knew it! What did I tell you?"

"Calm down, please," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. I still held the shirt in hand, and I hesitantly took a step forward to dab at the tears on her face. I was afraid she was going to pull away, but she stayed still.

" I didn't want to get attached, I didn't want to….to feel this way about you again!" For a moment we both froze, and she looked mortified that she had said such a thing.

"Helga, I told you I wasn't going to leave you. I meant that and….wait, again?" I paused, the heat in my cheeks suddenly for a reason other than the pain of being hit. "Why didn't you-?" I began, reaching out to take her hand.

She jerked away from me immediately now, fumbling to open the door. "Whatever. Go enjoy your date with Lila. I didn't need you anyway." She slammed the door behind her, but I could still hear her steps as she ran down the stairs and down the hall.

She liked me.

* * *

I originally had planned for this chapter to go on much longer, and there was a complete other scene that was going to happen. But I feel like this was a better place to end on than to brush over it. So I'll move it over.

I figured I'd also throw in some song suggestions, though these aren't used in this chapter in a literal sense. They're simply ones I listened to as I wrote.

So some inspiration pieces are "Animal" by Neon Trees and "Just a Feeling" Maroon 5


	22. Late night snack

Hi guys! This was a long wait for a rather mediocre chapter,but it was meant to ride with the last chapter. Then I decided I didn't like it all in a lump, so it sits a bit awkwardly on it's own. But I have a fondness, cause I was looking forward to this little man-time.

Also, I'm going to explain the disjointed jumping style of the first half of this. As this is first person, I feel Arnold is on a short fuse during his narration. Thus, it's disjointed, choppy, and rushed. I know this. I just don't want you guys wondering if I just gave up writing.

As always, song suggestions and such at the end!

remaining chapter count (for real this time) is one. I think I can sum this up in the next one. We'll see.

* * *

Even though I now had an inkling of an indication of how she felt about me, I had no idea what I was actually supposed to do with it. Was I supposed to run out after her? A resounding crack of thunder and the stinging in my cheek said it was probably a better idea to let her cool off before I attempted to chase her down and work things out. I bounced on the balls of my feet for a minute, feeling like I should still follow despite her mood. I could not only hear the rain, but I only had to look up to see the giant drops splattering against the glass. I had to at least make sure if she was going to run home in the rain that she made it there safely. I stumbled as I made my way down the stairs, deciding to just jump over the bottom half all together. I winced as I landed heavily on my feet, but I pressed on down the next set of stairs just as quickly. I pulled an umbrella from the small holder next to the door, opening it as I stepped out onto the steps.

The wind almost knocked me over, but I tried to plant my feet as best as I could against the slick the concrete. I peered down both directions of the sidewalk, but I saw absolutely no indication of her anywhere. It was as though she had completely vanished into the coming twilight, or she had held open her jacket and rode the wind like a flying squirrel.

God I needed to go back to bed.

There are a lot of things I need to do that I don't, so I drug myself into the kitchen with an air of depression lingering over me. I was still confused as ever, my face was stinging like I'd been punched by a boxer, I was suddenly feeling exhausted, and to top it all off Helga was upset with me. I don't know what to do with upset females. Should I get her another gift? Did I need a big apology? Did she even want to talk to me anymore? Why wasn't that one of the lessons?

I sighed heavily, dragging the percolator down from the cabinet and filling it with water and coffee grounds from grandma's somewhat elaborate stash in the back of the cabinet. I sat down heavily at the table, laying my head down on the cold wood as I tried to figure out what my next course of action was going to be. The deeper I got into the situation, the more I just wanted out. I was not mentally equipped to deal with all this emotional turmoil. I kind of wanted to talk about it, but I hated to call Gerald again. It wasn't like I had anything else to say other that what I had already said before. Of course I knew what I was waiting to hear. I was waiting for someone to give me a step by step plan of what to do that didn't end with the cliché "But it's your choice what you do." I didn't care that it was my choice. I wanted somebody else to tell me what to do, wasn't that the point of asking? The more I complained, the more hypocritical I started to feel. After all, for years I had always preached to do the right thing to my friends, but I had always let them make their own choices. Who was I to expect any one of them to do any different for me? I needed my coffee.

* * *

For the rest of the weekend I tried in vain to get ahold of Helga. I sent her text messages, left her voicemails. I waited for her to get online on any social media sites I knew she used, but it did nothing but frustrate me. I could see where she read the message, and then her status would go to offline. I came pretty close to just throwing my laptop against the wall at one point, but then I reminded myself I didn't have enough funds for another one. I even stopped by her house on Sunday afternoon. I could see where her mom was sleeping on the kitchen table, but no one came to the door when I knocked. I walked around to the side, knowing which window was Helga's. I saw a light, so I cupped my hands around my mouth and called, "It's me, Arnold! Please, why won't you just talk to me?" She responded by jerking the curtains shut, so I trudged home with the firm resolve that she would talk to me tomorrow. After all, we had classes together. She couldn't avoid me forever.

Unless she didn't come to school, which she chose not to do on Monday. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, refusing to believe she'd skip school over me. We would talk on Tuesday. She would be there on Tuesday.

I was right, and when Tuesday rolled around she marched into class with intent to kill. She would not look at me, she would not speak to me –she even opted out of being my partner in an assignment for Mr. Simmons's class, instead specifically asking to be put with Lila. I think I broke my pencil. I worked with Rhonda, and I don't remember anything she said to me the entire period other than 'Pay attention!'

I was going insane by this point, so I settled for my hastily decided on Plan B.

When lunch rolled around, I made sure I was poised and ready. I had a feeling Helga wouldn't actually come into the lunch room, knowing I would try and talk to her. So I'd have to settle for the next best thing.

"Phoebe," I called, waving to her as she carried her tray across the lunch room. She spotted me, then immediately flushed and looked away as though I had offended her.

Gerald shoved another handful of fries in his mouth, turning to look at me curiously. "Wha dith ya do?"

"I didn't do anything," I grumbled, not even hungry anymore. I pushed my tray away. "It's what Helga thinks I did, and that's the problem. I'm going to make Phoebe talk to me." Gerald merely blinked as I got up from the table and made my way over to Phoebe as though we were about to have a good old Western gunfight.

"Phoebe," I said coolly as I took a seat across from her at the small table she had chosen. There was no one else sitting except for Phoebe and myself. I was right in my earlier assumption.

"Arnold," she said in a curt tone, ripping the corner off of the packet of salad dressing she was holding. She took her time, and I knew she was stalling.

"Look, I need you to get Helga to talk to me," I finally caved, my voice pleading. She blinked at me in surprise, but I pressed on. "I know she's mad at me, but she won't even give me a chance to explain or apologize. I don't understand why she won't give me a chance. I know she has feelings for me, and I just-"

"I beg your pardon?" Phoebe squeaked in a voice so shrill, I covered my ears in protest. She slammed her fork down on the table. "You know she has feeling for you? You seem to be rather overconfident in yourself these days."

I blinked in surprise. Was this still Phoebe? "I'm…what?"

"You know, maybe she used to. But that was a long time ago. Honestly Arnold, for you to just lie to her like that."

"I never lied to her, not intentionally." I could feel my leg bouncing on the floor nervously. "I just…I really need her to talk to me."

Her face fell for minute, and she poked around at her salad. "Look Arnold, I'm going to be honest with you. Helga doesn't do well with getting attached to people, nor does she do well in showing her feelings. She was just really excited because her parents never go to her shows, and it really hurt her when she heard you'd made other plans for the same night. She thought she could count on you. So don't expect me to play mediator for you, because you don't know how many times you've put yourself in this same predicament without even knowing it."

I blinked as she grabbed up her tray and left me at the table, even more confused that I had been before.

* * *

So when Wednesday rolled around, I was in no place to turn away the guest at the door. It was just past nine and I was heading to the kitchen for a snack when a single loud knock echoed through the room. I blinked in confusion, peering around the room for a moment before making my way to the door. Maybe it was Gerald or something. I opened the door, any greeting I had meant to say getting stuck in the back of my throat.

We stood in an awkward silence for a moment before he said calmly, "Can I come in, or would you like to go out?"

"Out is good," I heard myself stammering, stepping out onto the stoop and shutting the door behind me.

He raised his eyebrow, looking at me curiously. "I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"You threaten me," I admitted honestly, and he replied with a simple 'ahh' and a nod of his head. "You wanted something?"

"You want to go get something to eat?" he asked, and the question was so far from anything I expected that the only response I could manage was a swift nod of my head.

"Okay then," he said, and I wasn't sure if he was trying not to laugh at me, or starting to think I was complete lunatic.

He pushed his bike to the backyard, and we walked in a tense silence down the sidewalk. There was a small diner about three blocks from here, and we said nothing the entire walk. But honestly, I did know what to say to him. Here I was, average build, walking in the dark with a guy at least a head taller than me with muscles I could only dream of having. The leather jacket and spiked bracelet didn't help me feel any safer, so I was fine. If we weren't talking, I couldn't say something that would prompt him to beat the crap out of me. Instead, David opted to look at the mixture of dilapidated old buildings mixed with the newer. He didn't speak again until we sat down at a table, and even then I still found I wasn't really ready to have any sort of conversation with him.

"I suppose you already know why I'm here," he said coolly, flipping open one of the menus on the table.

My mouth felt really dry as I tried to reply in the same tone, "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I know Helga must have said something, though I don't what."

"You'd be correct." He crossed his arms on the table and looked up at me with a serious expression. "Listen, you know our show is on Friday. We have one more rehearsal left, and Helga is doing very well, as always. But Helga is very driven by her emotions, and dance is meant to be an extension of that. So as well as she is doing, I can tell she's hurt. I happen to know you're the cause of it."

I dropped my gaze guiltily. "It was misunderstanding."

"So then help me understand it," he prompted. We paused as he ordered coffee and an omelet, and I ordered pancakes, for whatever reason.

"She never gave me a chance to explain!"

"So explain it to me, I already get that you didn't do that."

I frowned a bit at his tone, but continued. "She thought I lied to her. I didn't lie. I told her I had a date, and I told her I was coming to her show. I fully intended to come, after my date. I had it in my mind I'd be able to do both. I never actually lied," I reiterated.

He took a moment to stir his coffee before replying, "Do you have feelings for Helga?"

"Why, do you?" I shot back, blushing. I didn't see what that part had to with anything.

"Yes," he replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. I felt my stomach sink at his nonchalant tone, and I slumped in my seat. "We've gone on dates and I've brought up the subject of making it a bit more exclusive, but she's always declined." For whatever reason, that last bit gave me a bit of satisfaction. She had denied him. "Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because of you." I swear my cheeks were on fire as he was sitting over there casually collecting creamer containers on a napkin. Me? Because of me? "Look, it's not my business, I know that. But I've always been a bit nosy, and I'm very nosy when it comes to people I care about. I care about Helga, I'm already aware of it. She's aware of it. So tell me, do you have feeling for her?"

"I just-"

"Dammit, answer the question!"

"Yes!" I blurted. He had looked like he was two seconds away from coming across the table.

"Then why are you worried about going on this date with the other girl?"

"You know, you're right to say it's not your business," I commented a bit bitterly, sipping on my coke. I didn't need him interrogating me.

He rolled his eyes as he laughed at me, and his laughing at me just made me all the angrier. "You do have a problem dealing with emotions, don't you?"

"It's…not manly," I retorted. I suddenly feared for my life again as he glared at me across the table.

"I'm starting to think you just resent me. Personally, I happen to know a lot of people think I'm gay because I dance, and frankly I don't give a shit. I also don't give a shit as to whether or not you think sharing your feelings is not manly, because the fact that you don't talk about them is probably how you ended up this way."

"I did talk about them! I just don't….know which way to go," I admitted. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing for me to say earlier. It's just hard," I sighed, leaning back in the booth with a groan. "I've liked Lila for a very long time. I mean, my feelings didn't just go away. And I don't know if the way I feel about Helga was a heat of the moment thing, or if it's supposed to be something more. But she won't even talk to me. I've barely seen her since Friday, so how am I supposed to know? She told me to not even come to the show on Friday."

"She still wants you to come," he said softly. "She still has your ticket on reserve for you."

I blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Helga doesn't do stuff in halves. If she really wanted to cut you out of everything, she would have pulled your reservation, deleted your phone number, and burned any evidence of you away."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I guess." I squirmed a bit, drumming my fingers on the table. "But…Lila. I really don't want to pull out of our date. I mean, I spent two months trying to get her to say yes."

"Why? What makes her so special?" he asked, dropping his hands to his lap as our food was slid onto the table by a waitress who seemed a bit too friendly.

"If you boys need anything else, just let me know. If you want some dessert, honey, it's on the house."

We both stared awkwardly as she sashayed away. David coughed awkwardly. "You were saying?"

"There's just something about her I can't shake."

"I think you're just trying to take the easy way of this," he said with a shrug. "And I don't mean this in a bitter way at all, but man up."

"Easy way? What do you mean?"

"You lined up both because you couldn't say no. Okay, I got that. And it came down to you needing to make a choice. I feel like you're using Helga's comments she made in anger as a cop out and an easy way to make your decision."

"No. But Helga already said she didn't want me there. So that just leaves Lila, right?" I said lamely, poking at my food unenthusiastically. Okay, so maybe I was using a cop-out. But what if Helga still refused to talk to me after I went to the show? Would it be worth it?

"I thought Helga was giving you lessons. Didn't you learn anything?" he asked incredulously, his bangs covering his eyes as he looked down at the table.

"How much do you about Helga and me?" I asked curiously, suddenly feeling this was an unbalanced conversation.

"More than you'd like me to know, I'm sure."

"How'd you even find my house?" I asked, suddenly make a connection. He just grinned. I covered my face with my hands. "Look, Helga said she didn't want me to go. Until I hear from her that she wants me to go-"

"She's not going to tell you that!" he protested, but I shook my head.

"If she doesn't give me some indication before Friday that she still wants me there, I'm not going to force it. You asked me if I'd learned anything. The second lesson Helga taught me was to not be pushy and overbearing, and she asked me to stay out of her personal matters."

"There's always reading between the lines," David retorted, "which you seem to not be able to do." He threw some money down on the table as he stood up, frowning. "Look, you're a nice guy, but you are just dense as hell. If you end up with this other girl of yours, the one I also know broke up with you before, then you'll be without both of them. But coming to the show would mean something to Helga that you can't even begin to fathom. So take a moment to figure out which is 'manlier': they guy that does ballet and talks about his feelings and drove half an hour to stick up for his friend, or the guy who preaches 'do the right thing' but doesn't do it."

I was going to protest again, but his look silenced me. I sunk down in my seat at he left, and I wondered which of us really was more of man. It certainly didn't feel like me.

* * *

I spent a bit of time trying to decide what I wanted to be "David's theme"...so I was torn between two, and ultimately decided on "Ask the Lonely" by Journey.

Also, songs for this chapter in general, "Drive By" by Train I think is good for the pace of Arnold in the beginning, plus lyrics.

As for the second half, any Journey or good old alternative real 80s stuff works. It's a diner, and I think David is just made up of old music.


	23. Confessions

Here it is! My final chapter (though there is an epilogue coming). This was actually the first part of the story I imagined, then I had to work backwards. I've had a lot of fun with this story, and I'm so thankful to all of you who have given me such positive encouragement with it. So Enjoy guys. As per normal now, there are a few song suggestions as the end if you like to read to music.

Alright: For those of you unfamiliar with the Cinderella ballet, here's a great clip of the dance between Cinderella and the Prince.

watch?v=echtb6K4qk0&feature=c4-overview-vl&list=PLBB37D968DB3182DC

* * *

Here it was. Friday night. I thought that Helga's obvious distaste when she even looked at me would make my decision feel more justified, but it did nothing to quell the nervousness in my stomach as I stood on the steps. But either way, I fully intended to go through with my decision. I kept telling myself it was the obvious best decision of the two; the one that seemed the most logical, of course. Helga had not bothered to speak to me again at all, and I took that as the final sign. My resolve had been based on her telling me she still wanted me.

Honestly, I was a little hurt it never came. But I deserved it.

But as I stood there outside the door, I couldn't help but feel that what was 'logical' didn't equal right. David's words had been following me around as I got dressed, and I couldn't shake them from my head. They followed me as I got ready, as I headed downstairs, and even the entire ride to Lila's. They beat against my skull like a drum, and nothing I did seemed to shake them.

I'd made anther decision the night I sat alone at the diner, sort of picking at my food and taking some to evaluate my actions as well as myself. Maybe if I just sat back gracefully, she'd end up David. It seemed obvious in my mind that he was the better of the two of us. Helga deserved that, after all. A guy that wasn't afraid to tell her how he felt, and someone who was willing to drive half an hour to stick up for her.

I felt my fists clench at my sides as I remembered that was also part of my driving force for even getting out of the bed today. She deserved someone better than me. I would not let her make a choice she would regret. I sighed deeply, trying to bolster my resolve. Knock on the door, don't be pathetic. I took one more deep breath as I knocked hesitantly. I took a step back as it opened a moment later to reveal Lila, looking as radiant as ever. I thought I would be blinded by her as I so often was, but I felt nothing as she smiled at me. I just felt…empty.

"You look ever so nice," she said pleasantly, and I think I muttered a 'thank you' or something similar as I made my way to the truck to open the door for her. She stepped up gently, smoothing out the creases in her dress as she adjusted herself in the seat. I plodded around to the other side, jerking open the door and jumping up in the cab. I went to turn on the ignition, but something kept me from actually turning the key. My hand hovered for a moment, and Lila seemed to notice my hesitation, asking softly "Is something wrong, Arnold?"

"No," I finally managed through gritted teeth, quickly switching to my CD player so I wouldn't have to look at the time on the screen. I knew it was 5:45 by now, but I also knew that if I continued to watch the time I'd just be slowly counting down the time until it was time for Helga's show. Tonight was supposed to be about my date with Lila. I just needed to shift my focus. "I'm alright, sorry."

She nodded, smiling at me from across the seat. Meaningless conversation filled the air as we drove to the restaurant, and I just hoped I was nodding in the right places.

"So what's Helga been up to?"

My focus snapped back to Lila when I heard the statement, and I stammered for a minute before forming a coherent reply. "Ah, I'm sure just normal stuff. She had a ballet show tonight, so I know she's just been practicing really hard for that. She…she was really excited," I sighed. Shit. I passed a stop sign.

"Ah, okay," Lila nodded in reply, thankfully not noticing my mistake. "I know you two had been hanging out together, so I was just oh so curious. You didn't want to go to her show?" she asked curiously, pulling down the visor mirror to dab at her lips.

"She said she didn't want me to go," I said honestly, though leaving out this date was the reason why. She didn't need to know that.

"Oh, well that's ever so odd. Was there a reason?"

"Ah, come on. Let's get inside," I blurted, ignoring her question and quickly escaping from the cab. I went around and opened her door, helping her down gently. The parking lot was packed and the noise when we entered was an energetic hum. It was a nice place, but my heart just wasn't in it as I relayed our reservation to the waitress. She nodded as she led us to a table. I managed to glimpse a clock on the wall as we walked. 6:03.

"Here are your menus. Do you have an idea of what you'd like to drink? Our specials are listed on the smaller menu here," the waitress recited, handing us two smaller menus on top of the others.

"Tea please," Lila ordered, and I ordered my normal coke. The waitress nodded and was off in a blur of black and white.

"So, anything you'd like to talk about?" Lila asked sweetly as she flipped open her menu. "This stuff looks oh so delicious; I wouldn't know where to start."

Crap, I was supposed to look at the menu. I fumbled to get mine open. "Ah, no, not particularly," I replied, trying to look for something that I felt like I could stomach. I had no appetite whatsoever, it seemed.

We scanned in silence, saying appropriate thanks as our waitresses arrived back a few minutes later. She places our drinks down along with a bread basket. "You need some more time?"

"Oh, yes please," Lila said with a smile, and the waitress was off again. As soon as she was out of sight, Lila closed the menu in a demure manner and placed it on the table. I could tell by the look on her face that I had done something wrong.

"…Yes?" I said nervously, drumming my fingers against the pleather fabric of my side of the booth.

"Arnold, something is ever so wrong tonight. You want to talk about it?"

"What do you mean? Ha, nothing…nothing is wrong," I lied, almost knocking over my drink as I was suddenly over taken with butterfingers syndrome.

"Arnold," she said in a stern voice, reaching out and taking my hand that was on the table in hers. "I can tell. So, please."

"It's nothing. I just…I'm fine," I mumbled, dropping my gaze down to the table.

"You don't want to be here," she said quietly, and I dared a glance up to find her staring at my face in concern.

"What? Of course I do! I waited…months!…to get a date with you. I even had Helga tutor me on girls. I tried really, really hard to get you to say yes. I even didn't go to her show for you," I suddenly blurted out in an embarrassing spray of word vomit, my cheeks burning furiously as I admitted the whole situation.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then a look of understanding washed over her face. I blinked, confused. "I understand now. It's ever so clear now that I think about it," she said in a knowing tone. She pulled her hands back to her lap, sitting up straight and giving me a smug look.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I quickly brought my hands to my chin, worried I'd missed something while shaving. I wouldn't have been surprised; I had almost cut myself numerous times.

"In a oh so metaphorical way," she said with a somewhat disappointed sigh. "But it's alright."

"What is?" I was feeling more confused by the moment.

"You have a crush on Helga."

I felt my face heat up furiously once more. My mouth switched to overdrive again and I babbled, "What? No, of course not. I mean…she's just my friend, we hang out. I've known her forever, why would I-?"

At that moment our waitress stepped back in, but Lila politely decline and asked for just a few more minutes. She turned her attention back to me, shaking her head. "You don't have to be embarrassed," she assured me with a smile. "She's not a bad person. She had such a crush on you in grade school. I was honestly surprised she never said anything to you about it."

Wait, what? "Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah, she told me in fourth grade. You remember, during _Romeo and Juliet_? She really wanted to get to kiss you, so she talked me out of being Juliet. I agreed to let her have the role."

My mind had just been blown. _Romeo and Juliet _seemed to play such weird parts in my life. That play had been my first kiss –and with Helga, no less – and it was studying that play that had made me seek out Helga for help. If we'd never had to write those sonnets during the unit, I never would have even though to ask her. "She…never told me that," I said, a smile creeping onto my face despite my efforts.

"Oh yes, she liked you for such a long time. Gosh, I think she still does."

"_What?"_

"Mhm. I can tell by the way she looks at you. Sometimes you're just oh so blind to that stuff."

"I don't-!"

"What time is the show?"

I paused. "At seven, why?"

"You know, I'd be ever so okay with the idea of you going," she said with a shrug. "You don't have to sit here with me. I think it'd be an oh so romantic gesture if you surprised her."

"But our date," I protested, shaking my head. I had meant to say 'I can't just leave you', but instead the words, "I can't stay here" burst from my mouth instead.

"Oh Arnold, don't worry about it. It's ever so alright. I promise. Go see the show."

I could feel a shift in my mood instantly, which was strange. Lila was alright with me going. I wasn't going to hurt anyone. In fact, the only person who had any chance of getting hurt from this was me, and that was something I was ready to handle. "Seriously? Uh, here," I rambled, pulling my wallet from my pocket and pulling out the forty-five dollars I'd saved for the date. I pressed it in Lila's hands as she looked at me in surprise. "I saved this for our date anyway. Go ahead, order whatever you want to. If you want to call some other guy or someone, that's fine. That's enough for them too. You should even have enough for bus money if you need it." I sprang up from the seat, but paused for a moment to bend down and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Lila. For understanding. I didn't want to hurt you by cancelling. I thought at the time it was you, but-"

"Arnold," she interrupted me with a laugh. "Go."

"Right!" A gave her a quick hug before weaving out of the restaurant. One more quick glance at the clock showed it was now 6:20. I would even make it with time to spare. I ran to my truck like I was running a marathon, flinging myself into the cab and praising Jesus that it started up with no trouble. I tried to drive as carefully as I could, which was bit hard considering how my legs were wanting to wiggle in restless nervousness. I was going to make it.

* * *

I was not going to make it. I groaned in aggravation as I threw myself back against the seat. It seemed like the universe was determined that I was not going to make it to the show. It had started raining again ten minutes out of town, and then I had come across a traffic jam due to a rain induced accident with no more than ten minutes to get to the theatre. I had been sitting here for close to ten minutes already waiting on some indication I could move. My legs were twitching excessively now, and I peered around in the near darkness trying to figure out my next course of action. I brightened when I noticed a small gas station just ahead. I was on the outer lane, so I could get over to it without much hassle. I maneuvered my truck over to the parking lot, jamming my keys into my pocket and heading inside. It was empty except for the girl out the service desk.

"Excuse me," I said as I walked over. "Could you tell me how to get to the Lucretia's performance? I'm stuck in traffic and-"

"Oh yeah, no problem," she interrupted me, popping her gum. "My boyfriend's sister is in the show, ya know? They always do, like, super awesome. Last year they did this awesome show, what was it? It had like, pirates and-"

"That's great, really, but I'm going to be late," I prompted, trying to not sound as frustrated as I was feeling.

"Oh yeah, right, okay. So if you keep going down this road, you'll end up at a stop light. If you take a right, you'll end up on Martin street, kay? So follow it down about two blocks and you'll see the theatre. It'll have, like, big lights and everything. It's like, a mile and a half from here."

I blanched. Oh good Lord. Thankfully I'd jogged the other day, so I wouldn't totally collapse and die in the street. Hopefully. "Thanks so much," I called, rushing out the door. I was grateful the rain was only a slight drizzle by this point. I took a moment to try and psyche myself up before taking a deep breath and shooting off down the sidewalk.

I felt like my legs were going to burst into flames as the theatre came into view. I was so out of shape, it was pathetic. The rain had decided to pick up substantially as I had turned onto Martin Street, but I could still see the bright lights in the distance. I put on my last burst of speed to go the two short blocks, panting as I took a moment to double over and pant in front of the door. I could hear the gong to sound seven o'clock from a clock tower off in the distance, and I quickly let myself in.

There was a young woman just exiting the back of the ticket booth. Shoot, I'd forgotten the ticket window. She looked at me curiously, and then frowned as she noted the puddle my clothes were making on the floor.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're sold out," she said calmly, turning to walk off.

"No, no, wait!" I hissed frantically, trying to get the words out between my wheezing breaths. "I should have a reserved ticket."

"Sir, the show is about to start and-"

"Please."

There must have been something in my face that made her stop and take pity on me. "What was it under?" she said in a defeated tone, flipping open the laptop in her hands and pressing a few buttons.

"I..uh..I'm not sure." She glared. "No, I mean, Helga Pataki reserved it for me. I don't remember what she put it under."

Her eyes widened as she continued to type. "Oh, so you're Arnold. I was afraid you weren't going to show up. David and I placed a bet."

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, on whether you would actually come." She stepped back into the booth to collect a ticket from the printer.

"So I guess he owes you some money," I said a bit scathingly. Show him to place bets on me like that. And to think I was going to not put a fight against him.

"Naah. He said he had a feeling you'd show up. Here's your ticket." I blinked in surprise. "Now go take your seat so I can go backstage and tell them everyone's in place to start. Just…try not to get anyone all wet. You're in the fifth row, aisle seat, center," she explained, pointing to the only empty seat. "No go! Shoo!"

I bolted forward, quickly sinking down into the seat heavily. An unceremonious squelch arose as I sat down.

"Arnold?"

I looked over in surprise. "Mr. Simmons?" I squeaked.

"I didn't know you enjoyed ballet," he whispered, and I could just make out his smile as the lights dimmed.

"Oh, uh, I've never been," I admitted, squirming in my chair. "I'm here for...uh, Helga."

His eyes widened, and I felt my cheeks grow warm under his smile. Thankfully the curtains opened at that point and the awkward conversation was cut short.

I honestly didn't know what I was expecting, not being familiar with ballet, but I was pleasantly surprised at how interesting I found it. It was sort of like watching a silent movie, since there was no dialogue, but everyone did a good job with their dancing. The step sisters were hysterical, and the step mom as well.

And then there was Helga. When she did her first solo dance, I knew what David had meant when he said she danced based on her emotions. She put everything into this, and I could tell. It was definitely something to behold, and I found myself clapping harder than everyone else whenever she was on stage. Wow. I even had to hand it to David; he certainly knew how to dance. Not that I didn't still have a few words left to say to him, but I wasn't going to begrudge him on this part. He had certainly earned it.

When the lights came up halfway through, I found Mr. Simmons's gaze trained back on me.

"What do you think so far?" he asked curiously.

"It's…it's amazing," I said honestly, taking a moment to stand up and adjust my clothing.

"Sorry to be nosy, but why are you all wet?"

"I…ran in the rain," I said sheepishly. "There was a road block, and I didn't want to miss anything."

"Come on," he said with a laugh, gesturing for me to follow him outside. "We've got about fifteen minutes for intermission. I keep a spare change of clothes in my car. I can at least lend you a shirt."

"That'd be great, thanks Mr. Simmons," I said sincerely, following him out past the crowd of other people who had stepped out to stretch their legs. The rain had officially stopped by this point, and the air had a pleasant chill to it.

"Here," he instructed, handing me a plain green shirt from the back of his car. I was thankful that he was a relatively small guy still, and it wasn't a bad fit. I quickly stripped out of my old one and into the dry one, wringing the water onto the pavement.

"You come here a lot?" I asked, trying to spark some sort of conversation. I didn't want to just be standing here awkwardly trying to dry out my clothes.

"Oh yes, I try and see all the performances. My…uh, friend has a niece that does them. He wasn't able to make it tonight, but I still promised her I'd come."

"Oh," I said lamely as we headed back inside to take our seats.

"So, are you and Helga…exclusive?" he asked in a careful tone as we adjusted back to our seats. "I know I'm not supposed to butt in on my student's personal affairs as some of you tend to be nervous with expressing your feelings," he shot me a pointed look, "but it doesn't hurt to ask."

"Ah, no, not exactly," I explained, shifting awkwardly again. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with him at the moment. "Maybe…maybe later on?"

"Wonderful!" he said loudly, nodding excitedly. "I always liked the idea of Helga finding someone nice. I've had such a joy working with her poetry and writings over the years. She's such a gifted writer and she's got such a spot for romance. I couldn't think of a nicer person for her."

"Ah..thanks?" I made a mental note as the lights went down to make sure and dart off once the show was over. No more of this conversation.

When the show did finally end and people started to mill around the stage, I weaved my way back stage after getting directions from one of the parents in the audience. I almost jumped out of my skin when a voice said in a smug tone, "I had a feeling you'd show up."

I spun around to find David behind me, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"Yeah," I said with a grin, shrugging. "I was lucky enough to have someone remind me that I'm not exempt from doing the right thing."

"Just doing my job. She's in her dressing room, by the way," he added, scuffing his foot against the wood floor. "You can catch her before she leaves. You're lucky she likes you as much as she does."

"I know," was all I could think to say in return, and he shook his head before pointing to the last door on the left.

I gave him a sort of salute of parting before jogging my way to the door. I knocked loudly, stepping back as I heard her say in a grumpy voice, "I already told you I don't-! Arnold?"

"You were amazing," I said in a breathy voice, bouncing back on the balls of my feet. "Really."

He face immediately recovered from her shock as she grumbled, "Well I guess you brought Lila. I'll let you two get back to your date."

"I didn't go through with the date."

"What?" she said in a surprised whisper. "I mean, come on. You spent months trying to get that date. Why would you-?"

"It wasn't what felt…right," I explained, shoving my hands down in the pockets of my pants. "I figured out a little too late what was most important to me. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I was stupid, and I should have told you about it in the first place. I should have cancelled it after the banquet when I realized I didn't _like _her anymore anyway."

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked incredulously, grabbing my wrist and jerking me into the dressing room. She closed the door behind her, pinching the bridge of her nose in her fingers. "You mean you went through all my lessons for nothing? What a waste!"

"It wasn't a waste," I mumbled, fiddling with the assortment of make up on the small vanity.

"What do you mean it wasn't a waste? You didn't even go through with the stupid date! You are just so…infuriating sometimes!" she grumbled, flopping down on the tiny sofa by the door. She crossed her arms over her chest with a sour look on her face. I could see her reflection in the mirror.

"It wasn't a waste because…," I took a deep breath, slumping forward as I closed my eyes. "I got to spend time with you."

For a moment there was a silence so thick I thought I was going to suffocate. Why wasn't she saying anything?

Then I heard her response, in a voice so meek I almost didn't hear it. "What?"

"I just…okay, see, it didn't start out like that," I tried to explain, turning around to face her, though still leaning against the vanity. I wanted to look at her, but I was so embarrassed that my gaze kept dropping to the floor. "I mean, I don't know. It just _happened."_

"I'm sorry, you'll have to explain what 'it' is?" she pressed. She was just going to make me say it. I fidgeted against the vanity, biting my lip.

"Me… I kind of….gah," I groaned, covering my face with hands for a moment as I tried to compose myself. "Okay, so maybe I have feelings that aren't just platonic," I said stiffly, boring a whole into floor with my gaze.

"When did this happen?" she asked, her voice high pitched and shaky.

"I don't know when it happened, it just did. I was just stupid about it. I… I didn't want to tell you because what if you just flat out rejected me? I was a wimp, and I used your anger at me as an excuse to not have to bring it up. But I had to come. Knowing you were unhappy with me was driving me insane," I rushed, taking a deep breath as I finished. "David also may have taken a shot at my manhood," I added with a forced laugh.

"I told him to leave you alone," she grumbled, shaking her head. "He doesn't listen."

"No, it was a good thing he did. Or I would have missed this. I would have missed you. I would have missed…everything," I explained as I made my way to sit down stiffly on the couch.

"Why are you wet?" she inquired, poking at my pants leg. "Whose shirt is that?"

"I may have run close to two miles in the rain and I may have borrowed Mr. Simmons's shirt."

"You ran in the rain…to come see me?" she breathed, fumbling with her hands in her lap. "No one's ever done anything like that for me. I just…thanks. For coming. I really hoped you would. I wanted you to be here," she said in a soft tone, and I was surprised she was allowing herself to be this vulnerable to me. "I just got upset and said things I didn't mean. I should have been happy you got your date with Lila. I was just…jealous, I guess."

"Jealous?"

She picked at the dress she was wearing, biting her lip before answering, "I just. Criminy, I mean you had to know already how I felt about you."

"What?"

"I mean, come on Arnoldo. I rearranged my schedule for you. I went home and spent hours trying to pretend I even knew what I was talking about just so I could spend time with you. You just…you ignored me for me so long, I couldn't just pass that up."

"To be fair, threatening to emasculate me with dull scissors was kind of off putting," I tried to joke.

"Shut up," she growled darkly.

"So…ah, I was noticing that there was a lesson you forgot to teach me," I said in a half joking tone.

"What? I taught you more than enough lessons. I'm sure there's nothing left to confuse you," she chided, shaking her head at me.

"No, it was pretty important. And you didn't teach it to me," I pressed, shaking my head in defiance.

"Okay, so what was this so called important lesson I forgot to give you? Like it matters now anyway," she said in a jokingly annoyed tone. "Make it quick, I'm a busy girl here."

"How do you know when's the right time to kiss someone?" I said, and this time I did not allow my gaze to fall to the floor. I watched as her eyes widened, her cheeks tinting beneath the make-up.

"Why does that lesson matter? You don't want to kiss Lila, I assume-"

"No, but I do want to kiss you," I murmured softly, and I couldn't stop myself from running my thumb across her cheek softly.

"Well damn, it's about time," she said with a mischievous grin.

I laughed slightly, moving to give her a tentative kiss. But I should have known she wasn't going to accept anything less than perfect, and she broke whatever boundaries I had harbored in my mind the moment her hand locked into my hair.

And that was perfectly alright with me.

* * *

Alright! Here's the tiny playlist for this chapter.

First start with "Waiting outside the Lines" by Greyson Chance.

"Little Wonders" By Rob Thomas for the drive/run/ watching the show.

"Wanted" by Hunter Hayes for the the Dressing Room

With "Ho Hey" by the Lumineers for 'the credits'. ;D


	24. Survey (not a chapter)

Sorry guys, this isn't an epilogue (yet. This little snippet chapter is going to be removed when I post it, so keep in mind your responses to this will decide how much I tie up in the epilogue.)

I had a blast writing this story, and writing for Arnold has been …it's been a really fun trip, honestly. I was sad to see the story have to go, but I wrapped up what I wanted to wrap up in this piece. I didn't want it to go on and on and on.

But I'm debating on a sequel which would follow them through the last portion of their senior year (since this story will conclude them as juniors) If you'd be interested in the idea, drop me a message or a review. I'm going to leave this up for a week to decide whether or not to work on a draft for the idea. It'd follow in this same time line, written the same style.

So shoot me a yay or nay. If the vote goes to write it, then I'll do my epilogue a certain way withing the time frame of the rest of the semester.

If it's a nay, I want to write it to encompass the conclusion of their high school experience. I'm still debating.

I'll be pulling this on the 20th unless I get a strong feeling or responses one way or the other.


	25. epilogue

It took me a while to get this done, mainly because I was lazy. I've had this idea for the epilogue since about halfway through the story, so it's a weird little thing.

I want to think all of you for your input on my sequel questions. Overall, I've decided I do very much want to write one, and I will. However, it will be a bit before I get it up. I want to plot out most of it before I dive in.

Once again, thanks everyone for the ride. And the support. And all the jazz ;)

* * *

_Arnold Shortman_

_Prompt 27 – Fairy tales_

_Inspiration – The girl at the bookstore who said write about love, and for the girl who inspired the feeling_

**_The Tale of Two Gardens_**

_ "Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a young gardener. He was known the kingdom over for his skills, and he had yet to come across any species of flora he could not tame. He was able to fix just about any problem there was to be had with gardens._

_ And the king did indeed have a problem. He had two large gardens on his castle grounds, one that flourished with almost no effort at all. It was a gorgeous sight to behold, and it was admired by many. But the other garden was no such sight, instead filled with thorns and weeds that overtook the walls and grew back as quickly as they were pulled._

_ When the gardener finally arrived in response to his summons, he was given a brief set of instructions that went as follows: "The garden to the right is my prize. It is gorgeous, and it takes very little maintenance. There is a small stream that runs through it, and it gets plenty of sunlight. It rarely has any weeds to pull, and it does not try to grow over the walls. But I ask that you check it each morning when you rise and each night when you sleep. Now the garden to the left is a challenge. It has the potential to grow into a garden to rival my other, but no garden has been able to give it the spark it needs. I ask you to tend my gardens for me for the next two months. Keep in mind the gardens are both magic, and I shall let you take a souvenir from whichever garden you choose. Also keep in mind, your treatment of the garden will determine what souvenir will be presented to you. There is one rule I ask you not to break, however. Do not roam my gardens after dark."_

_ The gardener agreed to this deal, and set to work immediately. For the first week he spent most of his time tending to the flourishing garden on the right, basking in the sun and admiring the beauty. He'd visit the garden to the left, but found the recurring harshness a bit much to bear. But he pressed on, relentless. He fought the weeds, he cuts down the thorns, and he spent hours watering the ground that never seemed to be anything but dust. He had grown to hate the chore of returning every day to find all his work seemed for naught as all he cut the day before returned._

_ But one day, he found something had grown._

_ And this spark of hope drove him to spend more time in the garden than anyone before ever had. It began to burst forth flowers he had never seen, the weeds decreasing in numbers. And he found himself spending less and less time in the garden on the right, finding it did not needing watering nor did it need it's plants cut back. He admired it's beauty, yes, but found nothing for him to do but wonder about, which left him feeling useless. This was a garden for someone else._

_When the two months time had come to an end, the King was pleased beyond measure. "You are the first to make the garden on the left grow! Others gave up after a few short weeks. It never responded to them as it has to you. As promised, you may take a souvenir from my gardens. Meet me back at sunset."_

_ The gardener did as he was bid, and was astounded to find that as the sun disappeared behind the hills, two large flowers burst for from the earth in front of the gates of each garden. Each opened to reveal two beautiful girls, though the gardener could tell from the way the extracted themselves from the flowers that they were two opposites._

_"These are my two daughters," the king explained. "A curse was laid on them years ago by a witch whom I had hired to enchant my gardens. She cursed them to each have a garden to represent them, hoping that none could tame my daughter's rough ways." The girl on the left snorted. "Only when she had bloomed, would the curse break. Many found her too hard to work with, and much preferred my other daughter's garden that would never wilt." The girl on the left gave a graceful curtsy. "I offer you in return for your dedication, the choice of one of my daughters, should you so choose."_

_ "I choose the girl who embodies the girl on the left," the gardener replied without a moment's hesitation. He watched her eyes grow wide in surprise._

_ "Me?" she asked incredulously. "Why would you pick me? Pick her! Everyone else has for years!"_

_ "She is lovely, and her garden was nothing but a delight," the garden said with a nod to the other daughter. "But she did not challenge me, nor did she offer me surprises. Admittedly, it was not her garden that drove me to anger or caused me pain, but it was these things that drove me to make your garden grow. Watching it, well you, come to life was the best thing I could have ever asked for. If you are anything like your garden, then I could gladly spend years being surprised by you."_

_And so he was."_

* * *

I bounced my feet on the linoleum, my hands clasped together in my lap to keep my hands from roaming all over the desk and the paper as she read over my story. I really hadn't planned on letting her read it, but she reminded me in a rather forceful manner that I had promised to let her read it all those weeks ago. She was right, of course, and I could not back out of promises.

"So…..?" I said with a hesitant cough, embarrassed beyond measure already. I felt like I could hold cookie dough on my cheeks and bake a batch in the time it was taking her to read my dang paper.

"So?" she said in a neutral voice as she peered up at me, her face blank. I felt my stomach drop into my intestines at her look, and I squirmed in the desk uncomfortably. I could lie and say I had to go pee. She wouldn't follow me in the bathrooms and I could wallow in my embarrassed pity until the bell.

"I know, it was crap and I can't write worth a hill of beans anyway so I'm sorry you had to-" I started to babble, cut off by Helga jerking me by my shirt collar and giving me a rough kiss. Whether she was shushing me or not, I didn't mind.

A collective noise of surprise and fear went up from my classmates, scattered around the room as we were spending our last day in Mr. Simmons's class sharing the stories we had gotten back the day before with our prompt book. I hadn't actually asked Helga about our relationship status until this morning, having felt a bit a nervous about crossing that threshold. She had agreed eagerly, and we'd agreed to share the news at lunch with Phoebe and Gerald at lunch.

Obviously, she decided she'd waited long enough.

But it was alright, we'd have the entire summer to figure out how to deal with the pressures of having to survive our friends. Or survive each other. Whichever proved to be the more daunting issue.


End file.
